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EREWHON    REVISITED 


'Ex^pij  7<i/>  MO'  Kf^voi  o/xws  'At8ao  TriJXjfftJ' 
*os  x'  ^Tepov  ixh  Keidri  ivl  (ppeaXv,  dXXo  5^  elTTfj' 

Him  do  I  hate  even  as  I  hate  Hell  fire. 

Who  says  one  thing,  and  hides  another  in  his  heart. 

—Iliad,  ix.  312,  313. 


Erewhon 

Revisited 

TWENTY  YEARS  LATER 

Both    by    the    Original    Discoverer    of 
the  Country  and  by  his  Son 


BY 


SAMUEL   BUTLER 


N  EW  YORK 

E  •  P  •  BUTTON  ^  COMPANY 
31  West  Twenty-Third  Street 

I  910 


PREFACE 


/  FORGE  T  when,  but  not  very  long  after  I  had  published 
^*  Erewhon"  in  1872,  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  my- 
self what  course  events  in  Erewhon  would  probably  take 
after  Mr.  Higgs,  as  I  suppose  I  may  now  call  him,  had 
made  his  escape  in  the  balloon  with  Arowhena.  Given 
a  people  in  the  conditions  supposed  to  exist  in  Erewhon, 
and  given  the  apparently  miraculous  ascent  of  a  remark- 
able stranger  into  the  heavens  with  an  earthly  bride — 
what  would  be  the  effect  on  the  people  generally  ? 

There  was  no  use  in  trying  to  solve  this  problem 
before,  say,  twenty  years  should  have  given  time  for 
Erewhonian  developments  to  assume  something  like  per- 
manent shape,  and  in  1892  I  was  too  busy  with  books 
now  published  to  be  able  to  attend  to  Erewhon.  It  was 
not  till  the  early  winter  of  1 900,  i.e.  as  nearly  as  may 
be  thirty  years  after  the  date  of  Higgs's  escape,  that  I 
found  time  to  deal  with  the  question  above  stated,  and  to 
answer  it,  according  to  my  lights,  in  the  book  which  I 
now  lay  before  the  public. 

I  have  concluded,  I  believe  rightly,  that  the  events 
described  in  Chapter  XXIV.  of  "  Erewhon  "  would  give 
rise  to  such  a  cataclysmic  change  in  the  old  Erewhonian 
opinions  as  would  result  in  the  development  of  a   nevs 


C.QrP^f\/l-i 


Preface 


religion.  Now  the  development  of  all  new  religions 
follows  much  the  same  general  course.  In  all  cases  the 
times  are  more  or  less  out  of  joint — older  faiths  are 
losing  their  hold  upon  the  masses.  At  such  times,  let  a 
personality  appear,  strong  in  itself,  and  made  to  seem 
still  stronger  by  association  with  some  supposed  tran- 
scendent miracle,  and  it  will  be  easy  to  raise  a  La  here  ! 
that  will  attract  many  followers.  If  there  be  a  single 
great,  and  apparently  well-authenticated,  miracle,  others 
will  accrete  round  it;  then,  in  all  religions  that  have  so 
originated,  there  will  follow  temples,  priests,  rites,  sincere 
believers,  and  unscrupulous  exploiters  of  public  credulity. 
To  chronicle  the  events  that  followed  Higgs's  balloon 
ascent  without  shewing  that  they  were  much  as  they  have 
been  under  like  conditions  in  other  places,  would  be  to 
hold  the  mirror  up  to  something  very  wide  of  nature. 

Analogy,  however,  between  courses  of  events  is  one 
thing — historic  parallelisms  abound ;  analogy  between 
the  main  actors  in  events  is  a  very  different  one,  and  one, 
moreover,  of  which  few  examples  can  be  found.  The 
development  of  the  new  ideas  in  Erewhon  is  a  familiar 
one,  but  there  is  no  more  likeness  between  Higgs  and 
the  founder  of  any  other  religion,  than  there  is  between 
Jesus  Christ  and  Mahomet.  He  is  a  typical  middle- 
class  Englishman,  deeply  tainted  with  priggishness  in 
his  earlier  years,  but  in  great  part  freed  from  it  by  the 
sweet   uses  of  adversity. 

If  I  may  be  allowed  for  a  moment  to  speak  about 
myself,  I  would  say  that  I  have  never  ceased  to  profess 


Preface 


myself  a  member  of  the  more  advanced  wing  of  the 
English  Broad  Church.  What  those  who  belong  to  this 
wing  believe,  I  believe.  What  they  reject,  I  reject.  No 
two  people  think  absolutely  alike  on  any  subject,  but  when 
I  converse  with  advanced  Broad  Churchmen  I  find  my- 
self in  substantial  harmony  vjith  them.  I  believe — and 
should  be  very  sorry  if  I  did  not  believe — that,  mutatis 
mutandis,  such  men  will  find  the  advice  given  on  pp. 
277-281  and  287—291  of  this  book  much  what,  under 
the  supposed  circumstances,  they  would  themselves  give. 

Lastly,  I  should  express  my  great  obligations  to  Mr. 
R.  A.  Streatfeild  of  the  British  Museum,  who,  in 
the  absence  from  England  of  my  friend  Mr.  H.  Festing 
fones,  has  kindly  supervised  the  corrections  of  my  book 
as  it  passed  through  the  press. 

SAMUEL  BUTLER. 

May  I,  1901, 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  'AO« 

I,  Ups  and  downs  of  Fortune — My  father  starts  for 

Erewhon I 

II.  To  the  foot  of  the  pass  into  Erewhon       .        .        .       i8 

III.  My  father  while  campijtg  is  accosted  by  Professors 

Hanky  and  Panky 25 

IV.  My  father  overhears  fnore  of  Hanky  and  Pankfs 

conversation 39 

V.  My  father  meets  a  son,  of  whose  existence  he  was 

ignorant,  and  strikes  a  bargain  with  hint    .        .       55 
VI.  Further  conversation  between  father  and  son — The 

Professors'  hoard 68 

VII.  Signs  of  the  new  order  of  things  catch  my  father's 

eye  on  every  side 77 

VIII.  Yram,  now  Mayoress^  gives  a  dinner-party,  in  the 
course  of  which  she  is  disquieted  by  what  she 
learns  from  Professor  Hanky  :  she  sends  for  her 
son  George  and  questions  him  ....  88 
IX.  Interview  between  Yram  and  her  son  .  .  .103 
X.  My  father,  fearing  recognition  at  Sunch'ston,  be- 
takes himself  to  the  neighbouring  town  of  Fair- 
mead     114 

XI.  President  Gurgoyl^s  pamphlet  "  On  the  Physics 

of  Vicarious  Existence" 127 


Contents 


CHAP.  PACK 

XII.  George  fails  to  find  my  father^  whereon   Yram 

cautions  the  Professors 141 

XIII.  A  visit  to  the  Provincial  Deformatory  at  Fair- 

mead 153 

XIV.  My  father  makes  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Balmy, 

and  walks  with  him  next  day  to  SuncKston      .     163 
XV.  The  temple  is  dedicated  to  my  father^  and  certain 

extracts  are  read  from  his  supposed  sayings      .     180 
XVI.  Professor  Hanky  preaches  a  sermon.,  in  the  course 
of  which  tny  father  declares  himself  to  be  the 

Sunchild 196 

XVII.  George  takes  his  father  to  prison^  and  there  obtains 

some  useful  information 212 

XVIII.   Yram  invites  Dr.  Downie  and  Mrs,  Humdrum 

to  Itmcheon — A  passage  at  arms  between  her 

and  Hanky  is  amicably  arranged      .        .        .     222 

XIX.  A  council  is  held  at  the  May 01^ s,  in  the  course 

of  which  George  turns  the  tables  on  the  Pro- 

fessors 227 

XX.  Mrs.  Humdrum  and  Dr.  Downie  propose  a  com- 
promise, which,  after  an  amendment  by  George., 

is  carried  nem.  con 238 

XXI.  Yram,  on  getting  rid  of  her  guests,  goes  to  the 

prison  to  see  my  father 245 

XXII.  Mainly  occupied  with  a  veracious  extract  from 

a  StmcK stonian  journal 255 

XXIII.  My  father  is  escorted  to  the  Mayor's  house, 
and  is  ifitroduced  to  a  future  daughter-in- 
law    ,        ,    267 


Contents 


CHAP.  PAGE 

XXIV.  After  dinner.  Dr.  Downie  and  the  Professors 
would  be  glad  to  know  what  is  to  be  done 

about  Sunchildism 275 

XXV.  George  escorts  my  father  to  the  statues  ;  the  two 

then  part 285 

XXVI.  My  father  reaches  home,  and  dies   not  long 

afterwards 297 

XXVII.  /  meet  my  br ether  George  at  the  statues,  on  the 

top  of  the  pass  into  Erewhon  ....     304 

XXVI II.  George  and  I  spend  a  few  hours  together  at  the 

statues,  and  then  part — /  reach  home — Post- 
script        320 


Erewhon    Revisited 


CHAPTER    I 

UPS  AND   DOWNS   OF  FORTUNE — MY   FATHER 
STARTS   FOR   EREWHON 

Before  telling  the  story  of  my  father's  second 
visit  to  the  remarkable  country  which  he  discovered 
now  some  thirty  years  since,  I  should  perhaps  say 
a  few  words  about  his  career  between  the  publi- 
cation of  his  book  in  1872,  and  his  death  in  the 
early  summer  of  1891.  I  shall  thus  touch  briefly 
on  the  causes  that  occasioned  his  failure  to  main- 
tain that  hold  on  the  public  which  he  had  appar- 
ently secured  at  first. 

His  book,  as  the  reader  may  perhaps  know,  was 
published  anonymously,  and  my  poor  father  used 
to  ascribe  the  acclamation  with  which  it  was 
received,  to  the  fact  that  no  one  knew  who  it 
might  not  have  been  written  by.  Omne  ignotu77i 
pro  inagniJicOf  and  during  its  month  of  anonymity 
the  book  was  a  frequent  topic  of  appreciative 
comment  in  good  literary  circles.  Almost  coin- 
cidently  with  the  discovery  that  he  was  a  mere 
nobody,  people  began  to  feel  that  their  admiration 

A 


Erewhon   Revisited 

had  been  too  hastily  bestowed,  and  before  long 
opinion  turned  all  the  more  seriously  against  him 
for  this  very  reason.  The  subscription,  to  which 
the  Lord  Mayor  had  at  first  given  his  cordial 
support,  was  curtly  announced  as  closed  before  it 
had  been  opened  a  week ;  it  had  met  with  so  little 
success  that  I  will  not  specify  the  amount  eventually 
handed  over,  not  without  protest,  to  my  father  ; 
small,  however,  as  it  was,  he  narrowly  escaped 
being  prosecuted  for  trying  to  obtain  money  under 
false  pretences. 

The  Geographical  Society,  which  had  for  a  few 
days  received  him  with  open  arms,  was  among  the 
first  to  turn  upon  him — not,  so  far  as  I  can  ascer- 
tain, on  account  of  the  mystery  in  which  he  had 
enshrouded  the  exact  whereabouts  of  Erewhon, 
nor  yet  by  reason  of  its  being  persistently  alleged 
that  he  was  subject  to  frequent  attacks  of  alcoholic 
poisoning — but  through  his  own  want  of  tact,  and 
a  highly-strung  nervous  state,  which  led  him  to 
attach  too  much  importance  to  his  own  discoveries, 
and  not  enough  to  those  of  other  people.  This, 
at  least,  was  my  father's  version  of  the  matter,  as 
I  heard  it  from  his  own  lips  in  the  later  years  of 
his  life. 

"I  was  still  very  young,"  he  said  to  me,  "and 
my  mind  was  more  or  less  unhinged  by  the 
strangeness  and  peril  of  my  adventures."  Be  this 
as  it  may,  I  fear  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  was 
injudicious ;  and  an  ounce  of  judgement  is  worth 
a  pound  of  discovery. 


Ups  and  Downs 


Hence,  in  a  surprisingly  short  time,  he  found 
himself  dropped  even  by  those  who  had  taken 
him  up  most  warmly,  and  had  done  most  to  find 
him  that  employment  as  a  writer  of  religious  tracts 
on  which  his  livelihood  was  then  dependent.  The 
discredit,  however,  into  which  my  father  fell,  had 
the  effect  of  deterring  any  considerable  number 
of  people  from  trying  to  rediscover  Erewhon,  and 
thus  caused  it  to  remain  as  unknown  to  geogra- 
phers in  general  as  though  it  had  never  been 
found.  A  few  shepherds  and  cadets  at  up-country 
stations  had,  indeed,  tried  to  follow  in  my  father's 
footsteps,  during  the  time  when  his  book  was  still 
being  taken  seriously  ;  but  they  had  most  of  them 
returned,  unable  to  face  the  difficulties  that  had 
opposed  them.  Some  few,  however,  had  not  re- 
turned, and  though  search  was  made  for  them, 
their  bodies  had  not  been  found.  When  he 
reached  Erewhon  on  his  second  visit,  my  father 
learned  that  others  had  attempted  to  visit  the 
country  more  recently — probably  quite  indepen- 
dently of  his  own  book ;  and  before  he  had  him- 
self been  in  it  many  hours  he  gathered  what  the 
fate  of  these  poor  fellows  doubtless  was. 

Another  reason  that  made  it  more  easy  for 
Erewhon  to  remain  unknown,  was  the  fact  that 
the  more  mountainous  districts,  though  repeatedly 
prospected  for  gold,  had  been  pronounced  non- 
auriferous,  and  as  there  was  no  sheep  or  cattle 
country,  save  a  few  river-bed  flats  above  the  upper 
gorges  of  any  of  the  rivers,  and  no  game  to  tempt 

3 


Erewhon  Revisited 

the  sportsman,  there  was  nothing  to  induce  people 
to  penetrate  into  the  fastnesses  of  the  great  snowy 
range.  No  more,  therefore,  being  heard  of  Ere- 
whon, my  father's  book  came  to  be  regarded  as 
a  mere  work  of  fiction,  and  I  have  heard  quite 
recently  of  its  having  been  seen  on  a  second-hand 
bookstall,  marked  "  6d.  very  readable." 

Though  there  was  no  truth  in  the  stories  about 
my  father's  being  subject  to  attacks  of  alcoholic 
poisoning,  yet,  during  the  first  few  years  after  his 
return  to  England,  his  occasional  fits  of  ungovern- 
able excitement  gave  some  colour  to  the  opinion 
that  much  of  what  he  said  he  had  seen  and  done 
might  be  only  subjectively  true.  I  refer  more 
particularly  to  his  interview  with  Chowbok  in  the 
wool-shed,  and  his  highly  coloured  description  of 
the  statues  on  the  top  of  the  pass  leading  into 
Erewhon.  These  were  soon  set  down  as  forgeries 
of  delirium,  and  it  was  maliciously  urged,  that 
though  in  his  book  he  had  only  admitted  having 
taken  "two  or  three  bottles  of  brandy"  with  him, 
he  had  probably  taken  at  least  a  dozen  ;  and  that 
if  on  the  night  before  he  reached  the  statues  he 
had  "only  four  ounces  of  brandy"  left,  he  must 
have  been  drinking  heavily  for  the  preceding  fort- 
night or  three  weeks.  Those  who  read  the  follow- 
ing pages  will,  I  think,  reject  all  idea  that  my  father 
was  in  a  state  of  delirium,  not  without  surprise 
that  any  one  should  have  ever  entertained  it. 

It  was  Chowbok  who,  if  he  did  not  originate 
these    calumnies,   did    much    to    disseminate    and 

4 


Ups  and  Downs 


gain  credence  for  them.  He  remained  in  England 
for  some  years,  and  never  tired  of  doing  what  he 
could  to  disparage  my  father.  The  cunning  crea- 
ture had  ingratiated  himself  with  our  leading  reli- 
gious societies,  especially  with  the  more  evangelical 
among  them.  Whatever  doubt  there  might  be 
about  his  sincerity,  there  was  none  about  his 
colour,  and  a  coloured  convert  in  those  days  was 
more  than  Exeter  Hall  could  resist.  Chowbok 
saw  that  there  was  no  room  for  him  and  for  my 
father,  and  declared  my  poor  father's  story  to  be 
almost  wholly  false.  It  was  true,  he  said,  that  he 
and  my  father  had  explored  the  head-waters  of 
the  river  described  in  his  book,  but  he  denied  that 
my  father  had  gone  on  without  him,  and  he  named 
the  river  as  one  distant  by  many  thousands  of  miles 
from  the  one  it  really  was.  He  said  that  after 
about  a  fortnight  he  had  returned  in  company  with 
my  father,  who  by  that  time  had  become  incapa- 
citated for  further  travel.  At  this  point  he  would 
shrug  his  shoulders,  look  mysterious,  and  thus  say 
"alcoholic  poisoning"  even  more  effectively  than 
if  he  had  uttered  the  words  themselves.  For  a 
man's  tongue  lies  often  in  his  shoulders. 

Readers  of  my  father's  book  will  remember  that 
Chowbok  had  given  a  very  different  version  when 
he  had  returned  to  his  employer's  station  ;  but 
Time  and  Distance  afford  cover  under  which  false- 
hood can  often  do  truth  to  death  securely. 

I  never  understood  why  my  father  did  not  bring 
my  mother  forward  to  confirm  his  story.     He  may 

5 


Erewhon  Revisited 

have  done  so  while  I  was  too  young  to  know 
anything  about  it.  But  when  people  have  made 
up  their  minds,  they  are  impatient  of  further 
evidence ;  my  mother,  moreover,  was  of  a  very 
retiring  disposition.     The  Italians  say  : — 

"  Chi  lontano  va  ammogliare 
Sark  ingannato,  o  vorrk.  ingannare." 

"  If  a  man  goes  far   afield  for  a  wife,  he  will  be 

deceived — or  means   deceiving."     The   proverb   is 

as  true  for  women  as   for  men,  and   my  mother 

was  never  quite  happy  in  her  new  surroundings. 

Wilfully  deceived  she  assuredly  was  not,  but  she 

could  not  accustom  herself  to   English  modes  of 

thought ;  indeed  she  never  even  nearly  mastered 

our  language  ;   my  father  always  talked  with  her 

in   Erewhonian,  and  so  did   I,  for  as  a  child  she 

had  taught  me  to  do  so,  and  I  was  as  fluent  with 

her  language  as  with  my  father's.     In  this  respect 

she  often  told  me  I  could  pass  myself  off  anywhere 

in  Erewhon  as  a  native  ;  I  shared  also  her  personal 

appearance,    for    though    not    wholly   unlike    my 

father,  I  had  taken  more  closely  after  my  mother. 

In  mind,  if  I   may  venture  to  say  so,  I  believe  I 

was  more  like  my  father. 

I   may  as    well   here  inform   the   reader  that    I 

was  born  at  the  end  of  September  1871,  and  was 

christened  John,  after  my  grandfather.     From  what 

I    have    said   above    he    will    readily    believe    that 

my   earliest   experiences   were   somewhat   squalid. 

Memories  of  childhood  rush  vividly  upon  me  when 

6 


Ups  and  Downs 

I  pass  through  a  low  London  alley,  and  catch  the 
faint  sickly  smell  that  pervades  it — half  paraffin, 
half  black-currants,  but  wholly  something  very 
different.  I  have  a  fancy  that  we  lived  in  Black- 
moor  Street,  off  Drury  Lane.  My  father,  when 
first  I  knew  of  his  doing  anything  at  all,  supported 
my  mother  and  myself  by  drawing  pictures  with 
coloured  chalks  upon  the  pavement ;  I  used  some- 
times to  watch  him,  and  marvel  at  the  skill  with 
which  he  represented  fogs,  floods,  and  fires.  These 
three  "  f's,"  he  would  say,  were  his  three  best  friends, 
for  they  were  easy  to  do  and  brought  in  halfpence 
freely.  The  return  of  the  dove  to  the  ark  was  his 
favourite  subject.  Such  a  little  ark,  on  such  a  hazy 
morning,  and  such  a  little  pigeon — the  rest  of  the 
picture  being  cheap  sky,  and  still  cheaper  sea ; 
nothing,  I  have  often  heard  him  say,  was  more 
popular  than  this  with  his  clients.  He  held  it  to 
be  his  masterpiece,  but  would  add  with  some 
naivete  that  he  considered  himself  a  public  bene- 
factor for  carrying  it  out  in  such  perishable  fashion. 
"  At  any  rate,"  he  would  say,  "  no  one  can  bequeath 
one  of  my  many  replicas  to  the  nation." 

I  never  learned  how  much  my  father  earned  by 
his  profession,  but  it  must  have  been  something 
considerable,  for  we  aKvays  had  enough  to  eat  and 
drink ;  I  imagine  that  he  did  better  than  many  a 
struggling  artist  with  more  ambitious  aims.  He 
was  strictly  temperate  during  all  the  time  that  I 
knew  anything  about  him,  but  he  was  not  a  tee- 
totaler ;    I    never  saw  any  of   the  fits  of   nervous 

7 


Erewhon  Revisited 

excitement  which  in  his  earher  years  had  done  so 
much  to  wreck  him.  In  the  evenings,  and  on  days 
when  the  state  of  the  pavement  did  not  permit  him 
to  work,  he  took  great  pains  with  my  education, 
which  he  could  very  well  do,  for  as  a  boy  he  had 
been  in  the  sixth  form  of  one  of  our  foremost 
public  schools.  I  found  him  a  patient,  kindly  in- 
structor, while  to  my  mother  he  was  a  model 
husband.  Whatever  others  may  have  said  about 
him,  I  can  never  think  of  him  without  very  affec- 
tionate respect. 

Things  went  on  quietly  enough,  as  above  indi- 
cated, till  I  was  about  fourteen,  when  by  a  freak  of 
fortune  my  father  became  suddenly  affluent.  A 
brother  of  his  father's  had  emigrated  to  Australia 
in  185 1,  and  had  amassed  great  wealth.  We  knew 
of  his  existence,  but  there  had  been  no  intercourse 
between  him  and  my  father,  and  we  did  not  even 
know  that  he  was  rich  and  unmarried.  He  died 
intestate  towards  the  end  of  1885,  and  my  father 
was  the  only  relative  he  had,  except,  of  course,  my- 
self, for  both  my  father's  sisters  had  died  young, 
and  without  leaving  children. 

The  solicitor  through  whom  the  news  reached  us 
was,  happily,  a  man  of  the  highest  integrity,  and  also 
very  sensible  and  kind.  He  was  a  Mr.  Alfred  Emery 
Cathie,  of  15  Clifford's  Inn,  E.C.,  and  my  father 
placed  himself  unreservedly  in  his  hands.  I  was  at 
once  sent  to  a  first-rate  school,  and  such  pains  had 
my  father  taken  with  me  that  I  was  placed  in  a 
higher  form  than  might  have  been  expected  con- 


Ups  and  Downs 


sidering  my  age.  The  way  in  which  he  had  taught 
me  had  prevented  my  feeHng  any  disHke  for  study ; 
I  therefore  stuck  fairly  well  to  my  books,  while  not 
neglecting  the  games  which  are  so  important  a  part 
of  healthy  education.  Everything  went  well  with 
me,  both  as  regards  masters  and  school-fellows  ; 
nevertheless,  I  was  declared  to  be  of  a  highly  ner- 
vous and  imaginative  temperament,  and  the  school 
doctor  more  than  once  urged  our  headmaster  not 
to  push  me  forward  too  rapidly — for  which  I  have 
ever  since  held  myself  his  debtor. 

Early  in  1890,  I  being  then  home  from  Oxford 
(where  I  had  been  entered  in  the  preceding  year), 
my  mother  died ;  not  so  much  from  active  illness, 
as  from  what  was  in  reality  a  kind  of  maladie  du 
pays.  All  along  she  had  felt  herself  an  exile,  and 
though  she  had  borne  up  wonderfully  during  my 
father's  long  struggle  with  adversity,  she  began  to 
break  as  soon  as  prosperity  had  removed  the 
necessity  for  exertion  on  her  own  part. 

My  father  could  never  divest  himself  of  the  feeling 
that  he  had  wrecked  her  life  by  inducing  her  to 
share  her  lot  with  his  own  ;  to  say  that  he  was 
stricken  with  remorse  on  losing  her  is  not  enough  ; 
he  had  been  so  stricken  almost  from  the  first  year 
of  his  marriage  ;  on  her  death  he  was  haunted  by 
the  wrong  he  accused  himself — as  it  seems  to  me 
very  unjustly — of  having  done  her,  for  it  was  neither 
his  fault  nor  hers — it  was  Ate. 

His  unrest  soon  assumed  the  form  of  a  burning 
desire  to  revisit  the  country  in  which  he  and  my 

9 


Erewhon   Revisited 

mother  had  been  happier  together  than  perhaps 
they  ever  again  were.  I  had  often  heard  him  betray 
a  hankering  after  a  return  to  Erewhon,  disguised  so 
that  no  one  should  recognise  him  ;  but  as  long  as 
my  mother  lived  he  would  not  leave  her.  When 
death  had  taken  her  from  him,  he  so  evidently  stood 
in  need  of  a  complete  change  of  scene,  that  even 
those  friends  who  had  most  strongly  dissuaded  him 
from  what  they  deemed  a  madcap  enterprise, 
thought  it  better  to  leave  him  to  himself.  It  would 
have  mattered  little  how  much  they  tried  to  dissuade 
him,  for  before  long  his  passionate  longing  for  the 
journey  became  so  overmastering  that  nothing  short 
of  restraint  in  prison  or  a  madhouse  could  have 
stayed  his  going ;  but  we  were  not  easy  about  him. 

"  He  had  better  go,"  said  Mr.  Cathie  to  me,  when 
I  was  at  home  for  the  Easter  vacation,  "and  get  it 
over.  He  is  not  well,  but  he  is  still  in  the  prime  of 
life  ;  doubtless  he  will  come  back  with  renewed 
health  and  will  settle  down  to  a  quiet  home  life 
again." 

This,  however,  was  not  said  till  it  had  become 
plain  that  in  a  few  days  my  father  would  be  on  his 
way.  He  had  made  a  new  will,  and  left  an  ample 
power  of  attorney  with  Mr.  Cathie  —  or,  as  we 
always  called  him,  Alfred — who  was  to  supply  me 
with  whatever  money  I  wanted  ;  he  had  put  all 
other  matters  in  order  in  case  anything  should 
happen  to  prevent  his  ever  returning,  and  he  set 
out  on  October  i,  1890,  more  composed  and  cheer- 
ful than  I  had  seen  him  for  some  time  past. 


Ups  and  Downs 

I  had  not  realised  how  serious  the  danger  to  my 
father  would  be  if  he  were  recognised  while  he  was 
in  Erewhon,  for  I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  I  had  not 
yet  read  his  book.  I  had  heard  over  and  over  again 
of  his  flight  with  my  mother  in  the  balloon,  and  had 
long  since  read  his  few  opening  chapters,  but  I  had 
found,  as  a  boy  naturally  would,  that  the  succeed- 
ing pages  were  a  little  dull,  and  soon  put  the  book 
aside.  My  father,  indeed,  repeatedly  urged  me  not 
to  read  it,  for  he  said  there  was  much  in  it — more 
especially  in  the  earlier  chapters,  which  I  had  alone 
found  interesting — that  he  would  gladly  cancel  if 
he  could.  "  But  there  !  "  he  had  said  with  a  laugh, 
"  what  does  it  matter  ?  " 

He  had  hardly  left,  before  I  read  his  book  from 
end  to  end,  and,  on  having  done  so,  not  only  ap- 
preciated the  risks  that  he  would  have  to  run,  but 
was  struck  with  the  wide  difference  between  his 
character  as  he  had  himself  portrayed  it,  and  the 
estimate  I  had  formed  of  it  from  personal  know- 
ledge. When,  on  his  return,  he  detailed  to  me  his 
adventures,  the  account  he  gave  of  what  he  had 
said  and  done  corresponded  with  my  own  ideas 
concerning  him  ;  but  I  doubt  not  the  reader  will 
see  that  the  twenty  years  between  his  first  and 
second  visit  had  modified  him  even  more  than  so 
long  an  interval  might  be  expected  to  do. 

I  heard  from  him  repeatedly  during  the  first  two 
months  of  his  absence,  and  was  surprised  to  find 
that  he  had  stayed  for  a  week  or  ten  days  at  more 
than  one  place  of  call  on  his  outward  journey.     On 


XI 


Erewhon  Revisited 

November  26  he  wrote  from  the  port  whence  he 
was  to  start  for  Erewhon,  seemingly  in  good  health 
and  spirits ;  and  on  December  27,  1891,  he  tele- 
graphed for  a  hundred  pounds  to  be  wired  out  to 
him  at  this  same  port.  This  puzzled  both  Mr. 
Cathie  and  myself,  for  the  interval  between  Novem- 
ber 26  and  December  27  seemed  too  short  to  admit 
of  his  having  paid  his  visit  to  Erewhon  and  returned  ; 
as,  moreover,  he  had  added  the  words,  "Coming 
home,"  we  rather  hoped  that  he  had  abandoned  his 
intention  of  going  there. 

We  were  also  surprised  at  his  wanting  so  much 
money,  for  he  had  taken  a  hundred  pounds  in  gold, 
which,  from  some  fancy,  he  had  stowed  in  a  small 
silver  jewel-box  that  he  had  given  my  mother  not 
long  before  she  died.  He  had  also  taken  a  hundred 
pounds  worth  of  gold  nuggets,  which  he  had  in- 
tended to  sell  in  Erewhon  so  as  to  provide  himself 
with  money  when  he  got  there. 

I  should  explain  that  these  nuggets  would  be 
worth  in  Erewhon  fully  ten  times  as  much  as 
they  would  in  Europe,  owing  to  the  great  scarcity 
of  gold  in  that  country.  The  Erewhonian  coinage 
is  entirely  silver — which  is  abundant,  and  worth 
much  what  it  is  in  England — or  copper,  which  is 
also  plentiful ;  but  what  we  should  call  five  pounds* 
worth  of  silver  money  would  not  buy  more  than 
one  of  our  half-sovereigns  in  gold. 

He  had  put  his  nuggets  into  ten  brown  holland 
bags,  and  he  had  had  secret  pockets  made  for  the 
old  Erewhonian  dress  which  he  had  worn  when  he 


Ups  and  Downs 


escaped,  so  that  he  need  never  have  more  than  one 
bag  of  nuggets  accessible  at  a  time.  He  was  not 
hkely,  therefore,  to  have  been  robbed.  His  passage 
to  the  port  above  referred  to  had  been  paid  before 
he  started,  and  it  seemed  impossible  that  a  man  of 
his  very  inexpensive  habits  should  have  spent  two 
hundred  pounds  in  a  single  month — for  the  nuggets 
would  be  immediately  convertible  in  an  English 
colony.  There  was  nothing,  however,  to  be  done  but 
to  cable  out  the  money  and  wait  my  father's  arrival. 
Returning  for  a  moment  to  my  father's  old  Ere- 
whonian  dress,  I  should  say  that  he  had  preserved 
it  simply  as  a  memento  and  without  any  idea  that 
he  should  again  want  it.  It  was  not  the  court  dress 
that  had  been  provided  for  him  on  the  occasion  of 
his  visit  to  the  king  and  queen,  but  the  everyday 
clothing  that  he  had  been  ordered  to  wear  when  he 
was  put  in  prison,  though  his  English  coat,  waist- 
coat, and  trousers  had  been  allowed  to  remain  in 
his  own  possession.  These,  I  had  seen  from  his 
book,  had  been  presented  by  him  to  the  queen  (with 
the  exception  of  two  buttons,  which  he  had  given 
to  Yram  as  a  keepsake),  and  had  been  preserved 
by  her  displayed  upon  a  wooden  dummy.  The  dress 
in  which  he  escaped  had  been  soiled  during  the 
hours  that  he  and  my  mother  had  been  in  the  sea, 
and  had  also  suffered  from  neglect  during  the  years 
of  his  poverty;  but  he  wished  to  pass  himself  off  as 
a  common  peasant  or  working-man,  so  he  preferred 
to  have  it  set  in  order  as  might  best  be  done,  rather 

than  copied. 

13 


Erewhon   Revisited 

So  cautious  was  he  in  the  matter  of  dress  that  he 
took  with  him  the  boots  he  had  worn  on  leaving 
Erewhon,  lest  the  foreign  make  of  his  English  boots 
should  arouse  suspicion.  They  were  nearly  new, 
and  when  he  had  had  them  softened  and  well 
greased,  he  found  he  could  still  wear  them  quite 
comfortably. 

But  to  return.  He  reached  home  late  at  night 
one  day  at  the  beginning  of  February,  and  a  glance 
was  enough  to  show  that  he  was  an  altered  man. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  said  I,  shocked  at  his 
appearance.  "  Did  you  go  to  Erewhon,  and  were 
you  ill-treated  there  ?  " 

"  I  went  to  Erewhon,"  he  said,  "  and  I  was  not 
ill-treated  there,  but  I  have  been  so  shaken  that 
I  fear  I  shall  quite  lose  my  reason.  Do  not  ask 
me  more  now.  I  will  tell  you  about  it  all  to- 
morrow. Let  me  have  something  to  eat,  and  go 
to  bed." 

When  we  met  at  breakfast  next  morning,  he 
greeted  me  with  all  his  usual  warmth  of  affection, 
but  he  was  still  taciturn.  "  I  will  begin  to  tell 
you  about  it,"  he  said,  "after  breakfast.  Where 
is  your  dear  mother  ?     How  was  it  that  I  have  .  .  ." 

Then  of  a  sudden  his  memory  returned,  and  he 
burst  into  tears. 

I  now  saw,  to  my  horror,  that  his  mind  was  gone. 
When  he  recovered,  he  said  :  "  It  has  all  come 
back  again,  but  at  times  now  I  am  a  blank,  and 
every  week  am  more  and  more  so.  I  daresay  I 
shall  be  sensible  now  for  several  hours.     We  will 


Ups  and  Downs 

go  into  the  study  after  breakfast,  and  I  will  talk 
to  you  as  long  as  I  can  do  so." 

Let  the  reader  spare  me,  and  let  me  spare  the 
reader  any  description  of  what  we  both  of  us  felt. 

When  we  were  in  the  study,  my  father  said, 
"  My  dearest  boy,  get  pen  and  paper  and  take 
notes  of  what  I  tell  you.  It  will  be  all  dis- 
jointed ;  one  day  I  shall  remember  this,  and 
another  that,  but  there  will  not  be  many  more  days 
on  which  I  shall  remember  anything  at  all.  I 
cannot  write  a  coherent  page.  You,  when  I  am 
gone,  can  piece  what  I  tell  you  together,  and  tell 
it  as  I  should  have  told  it  if  I  had  been  still  sound. 
But  do  not  publish  it  yet ;  it  might  do  harm  to 
those  dear  good  people.  Take  the  notes  now, 
and  arrange  them  the  sooner  the  better,  for  you 
may  want  to  ask  me  questions,  and  I  shall  not  be 
here  much  longer.  Let  publishing  wait  till  you 
are  confident  that  publication  can  do  no  harm  ; 
and  above  all,  say  nothing  to  betray  the  where- 
abouts of  Erewhon,  beyond  admitting  (which  I 
fear  I  have  already  done)  that  it  is  in  the  Southern 
hemisphere." 

These  instructions  I  have  religiously  obeyed. 
For  the  first  days  after  his  return,  my  father  had 
few  attacks  of  loss  of  memory,  and  I  was  in  hopes 
that  his  former  health  of  mind  would  return  when 
he  found  himself  in  his  old  surroundings.  During 
these  days  he  poured  forth  the  story  of  his  adven- 
tures so  fast,  that  if  I  had  not  had  a  fancy  for 
acquiring  shorthand,  I  should  not  have  been  able 

15 


Erewhon   Revisited 

to  keep  pace  with  him.  I  repeatedly  urged  him 
not  to  overtax  his  strength,  but  he  was  oppressed 
by  the  fear  that  if  he  did  not  speak  at  once,  he 
might  never  be  able  to  tell  me  all  he  had  to  say ; 
I  had,  therefore,  to  submit,  though  seeing  plainly 
enough  that  he  was  only  hastening  the  complete 
paralysis  which  he  so  greatly  feared. 

Sometimes  his  narrative  would  be  coherent  for 
pages  together,  and  he  could  answer  any  questions 
without  hesitation  ;  at  others,  he  was  now  here  and 
now  there,  and  if  I  tried  to  keep  him  to  the  order  of 
events  he  would  say  that  he  had  forgotten  inter- 
mediate incidents,  but  that  they  would  probably 
come  back  to  him,  and  I  should  perhaps  be  able  to 
put  them  in  their  proper  places. 

After  about  ten  days  he  seemed  satisfied  that  I 
had  got  all  the  facts,  and  that  with  the  help  of  the 
pamphlets  which  he  had  brought  with  him  I  should 
be  able  to  make  out  a  connected  story.  "  Remem- 
ber," he  said,  "  that  I  thought  I  was  quite  well  so 
long  as  I  was  in  Erewhon,  and  do  not  let  me  appear 
as  anything  else." 

When  he  had  fully  delivered  himself,  he  seemed 
easier  in  his  mind,  but  before  a  month  had  passed 
he  became  completely  paralysed,  and  though  he 
lingered  till  the  beginning  of  June,  he  was  seldom 
more  than  dimly  conscious  of  what  was  going  on 
around  him. 

His  death  robbed  me  of  one  who  had  been  a  very 

kind  and  upright  elder  brother  rather  than  a  father  ; 

and  so  strongly  have  I  felt  his  influence  still  pre- 

i6 


Ups  and  Downs 


sent,  living  and  working,  as  I  believe  for  better 
within  me,  that  I  did  not  hesitate  to  copy  the 
epitaph  which  he  saw  in  the  Musical  Bank  at  Fair- 
mead,*  and  to  have  it  inscribed  on  the  very  simple 
monument  which  he  desired  should  alone  mark  his 
grave.  

The  foregoing  was  written  in  the  summer  of 
1891  ;  what  I  now  add  should  be  dated  December  3, 
1900.  If,  in  the  course  of  my  work,  I  have  misre- 
presented my  father,  as  I  fear  I  may  have  sometimes 
done,  I  would  ask  my  readers  to  remember  that  no 
man  can  tell  another's  story  without  some  involun- 
tary misrepresentation  both  of  facts  and  characters. 
They  will,  of  course,  see  that  "  Erewhon  Revisited" 
is  written  by  one  who  has  far  less  literary  skill  than 
the  author  of  "  Erewhon  ; "  but  again  I  would  ask 
indulgence  on  the  score  of  youth,  and  the  fact  that 
this  is  my  first  book.  It  was  written  nearly  ten 
years  ago,  i.e.  in  the  months  from  March  to  August 
1891,  but  for  reasons  already  given  it  could  not 
then  be  made  public.  I  have  now  received  permis- 
sion, and  therefore  publish  the  following  chapters, 
exactly,  or  very  nearly  exactly,  as  they  were  left 
when  I  had  finished  editing  my  father's  diaries,  and 
the  notes  I  took  down  from  his  own  mouth — with 
the  exception,  of  course,  of  these  last  few  lines, 
hurriedly  written  as  I  am  on  the  point  of  leaving 
England,  of  the  additions  I  made  in  1892,  on  return- 
ing from  my  own  three  hours'  stay  in  Erewhon,  and 
of  the  Postscript. 

*  See  Chapter  X. 

17  B 


CHAPTER  II 

TO  THE  FOOT  OF  THE  PASS  INTO  EREWHON 

When  my  father  reached  the  colony  for  which 
he  had  left  England  some  twenty-two  years  pre- 
viously, he  bought  a  horse,  and  started  up  country 
on  the  evening  of  the  day  after  his  arrival,  which 
was,  as  I  have  said,  on  one  of  the  last  days  of 
November  1890.  He  had  taken  an  English  saddle 
with  him,  and  a  couple  of  roomy  and  strongly 
made  saddle-bags.  In  these  he  packed  his  money, 
his  nuggets,  some  tea,  sugar,  tobacco,  salt,  a  flask 
of  brandy,  matches,  and  as  many  ship's  biscuits 
as  he  thought  he  was  likely  to  want ;  he  took  no 
meat,  for  he  could  supply  himself  from  some 
accommodation -house  or  sheep -station,  when 
nearing  the  point  after  which  he  would  have  to 
begin  camping  out.  He  rolled  his  Erewhonian 
dress  and  small  toilette  necessaries  inside  a  warm 
red  blanket,  and  strapped  the  roll  on  to  the  front 
part  of  his  saddle.  On  to  other  D's,  with  which 
his  saddle  was  amply  provided,  he  strapped  his 
Erewhonian  boots,  a  tin  pannikin,  and  a  billy  that 
would  hold  about  a  quart.  I  should,  perhaps,  ex- 
plain to  English  readers  that  a  billy  is  a  tin  can, 
the  name  for  which  (doubtless  of  French  Canadian 

origin)  is  derived  from  the  words  ^^faire  bouiilir," 

18 


To  the  Pass 


He  also  took  with  him  a  pair  of  hobbles  and   a 
small  hatchet. 

He  spent  three  whole  days  in  riding  across  the 
plains,  and  was  struck  with  the  very  small  signs 
of  change  that  he  could  detect,  but  the  fall  in 
wool,  and  the  failure,  so  far,  to  establish  a  frozen 
meat  trade,  had  prevented  any  material  develop- 
ment of  the  resources  of  the  country.  When  he 
had  got  to  the  front  ranges,  he  followed  up  the 
river  next  to  the  north  of  the  one  that  he  had 
explored  years  ago,  and  from  the  head  waters  of 
which  he  had  been  led  to  discover  the  only  practi- 
cable pass  into  Erewhon.  He  did  this,  partly  to 
avoid  the  terribly  dangerous  descent  on  to  the 
bed  of  the  more  northern  river,  and  partly  to 
escape  being  seen  by  shepherds  or  bullock-drivers 
who  might  remember  him. 

If  he  had  attempted  to  get  through  the  gorge 
of  this  river  in  1870,  he  would  have  found  it 
impassable ;  but  a  few  river-bed  flats  had  been 
discovered  above  the  gorge,  on  which  there  was 
now  a  shepherd's  hut,  and  on  the  discovery  of 
these  flats  a  narrow  horse  track  had  been  made 
from  one  end  of  the  gorge  to  the  other. 

He  was  hospitably  entertained  at  the  shepherd's 
hut  just  mentioned,  which  he  reached  on  Monday, 
December  i.  He  told  the  shepherd  in  charge  of  it 
that  he  had  come  to  see  if  he  could  find  traces 
of  a  large  wingless  bird,  whose  existence  had  been 
reported  as  having  been  discovered  among  the 
extreme  head  waters  of  the  river. 

19 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"Be  careful,  sir,"  said  the  shepherd;  "the  river 
is  very  dangerous  ;  several  people — one  only  about 
a  year  ago — have  left  this  hut,  and  though  their 
horses  and  their  camps  have  been  found,  their 
bodies  have  not.  When  a  great  fresh  comes  down, 
it  would  carry  a  body  out  to  sea  in  twenty-four 
hours." 

He  evidently  had  no  idea  that  there  was  a  pass 
through  the  ranges  up  the  river,  which  might  ex- 
plain the  disappearance  of  an  explorer. 

Next  day  my  father  began  to  ascend  the  river. 
There  was  so  much  tangled  growth  still  unburnt 
wherever  there  was  room  for  it  to  grow,  and  so 
much  swamp,  that  my  father  had  to  keep  almost 
entirely  to  the  river-bed — and  here  there  was  a 
good  deal  of  quicksand.  The  stones  also  were 
often  large  for  some  distance  together,  and  he  had 
to  cross  and  recross  streams  of  the  river  more  than 
once,  so  that  though  he  travelled  all  day  with  the 
exception  of  a  couple  of  hours  for  dinner,  he  had 
not  made  more  than  some  five  and  twenty  miles 
when  he  reached  a  suitable  camping  ground,  where 
he  unsaddled  his  horse,  hobbled  him,  and  turned 
him  out  to  feed.  The  grass  was  beginning  to  seed, 
so  that  though  it  was  none  too  plentiful,  what  there 
was  of  it  made  excellent  feed. 

He  lit  his  fire,  made  himself  some  tea,  ate  his 
cold  mutton  and  biscuits,  and  lit  his  pipe,  exactly 
as  he  had  done  twenty  years  before.  There  was  the 
clear  starlit  sky,  the  rushing  river,  and  the  stunted 
trees  on  the  mountain-side ;  the  woodhens  cried, 


To  the  Pass 


and  the  "more-pork"  hooted  out  her  two  mono- 
tonous notes  exactly  as  they  had  done  years  since  ; 
one  moment,  and  time  had  so  flown  backwards  that 
youth  came  bounding  back  to  him  with  the  return 
of  his  youth's  surroundings  ;  the  next,  and  the  in- 
tervening twenty  years — most  of  them  grim  ones — 
rose  up  mockingly  before  him,  and  the  buoyancy 
of  hope  yielded  to  the  despondency  of  admitted 
failure.  By  and  by  buoyancy  reasserted  itself,  and, 
soothed  by  the  peace  and  beauty  of  the  night,  he 
wrapped  himself  up  in  his  blanket  and  dropped  off 
into  a  dreamless  slumber. 

Next  morning,  i.e.  December  3,  he  rose  soon 
after  dawn,  bathed  in  a  backwater  of  the  river,  got 
his  breakfast,  found  his  horse  on  the  river-bed,  and 
started  as  soon  as  he  had  duly  packed  and  loaded. 
He  had  now  to  cross  streams  of  the  river  and 
recross  them  more  often  than  on  the  preceding 
day,  and  this,  though  his  horse  took  well  to  the 
water,  required  care  ;  for  he  was  anxious  not  to 
wet  his  saddle-bags,  and  it  was  only  by  crossing 
at  the  wide,  smooth,  water  above  a  rapid,  and  by 
picking  places  where  the  river  ran  in  two  or  three 
streams,  that  he  could  find  fords  where  his  practised 
eye  told  him  that  the  water  would  not  be  above  his 
horse's  belly — for  the  river  was  of  great  volume. 
Fortunately,  there  had  been  a  late  fall  of  snow  on 
the  higher  ranges,  and  the  river  was,  for  the  summer 
season,  low. 

Towards  evening,  having  travelled,  so  far  as  he 
could  guess,  some  twenty  or  five  and  twenty  miles 


Erewhon   Revisited 

(for  he  had  made  another  mid  day  halt),  he  reached 
the  place,  which  he  easily  recognised,  as  that  where 
he  had  camped  before  crossing  to  the  pass  that  led 
into  Erewhon.  It  was  the  last  piece  of  ground  that 
could  be  called  a  flat  (though  it  was  in  reality  only 
the  sloping  delta  of  a  stream  that  descended  from 
the  pass)  before  reaching  a  large  glacier  that  had 
encroached  on  the  river-bed,  which  it  traversed  at 
right  angles  for  a  considerable  distance. 

Here  he  again  camped,  hobbled  his  horse,  and 
turned  him  adrift,  hoping  that  he  might  again  find 
him  some  two  or  three  months  hence,  for  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  sweet  grass  here  and  there,  with  sow-  j 
thistle  and  anise;  and  the  coarse  tussock  grass  would 
be  in  full  seed  shortly,  which  alone  would  keep  him 
going  for  as  long  a  time  as  my  father  expected  to  be 
away.  Little  did  he  think  that  he  should  want  him 
again  so  shortly. 

Having  attended  to  his  horse,  he  got  his  supper, 
and  while  smoking  his  pipe  congratulated  himself 
on  the  way  in  which  something  had  smoothed  away 
all  the  obstacles  that  had  so  nearly  baffled  him  on 
his  earlier  journey.  Was  he  being  lured  on  to  his 
destruction  by  some  malicious  fiend,  or  befriended 
by  one  who  had  compassion  on  him  and  wished 
him  well?  His  naturally  sanguine  temperament 
inclined  him  to  adopt  the  friendly  spirit  theory,  in 
the  peace  of  which  he  again  laid  himself  down  to 
rest,  and  slept  soundly  from  dark  till  dawn. 

In  the  morning,  though  the  water  was  somewhat 
icy,  he  again  bathed,  and  then  put  on  his  Erewhonian 


To  the  Pass 


boots  and  dress.  He  stowed  his  European  clothes, 
with  some  difficulty,  into  his  saddle-bags.  Herein 
also  he  left  his  case  full  of  English  sovereigns,  his 
spare  pipes,  his  purse,  which  contained  two  pounds 
in  gold  and  seven  or  eight  shillings,  part  of  his  stock 
of  tobacco,  and  whatever  provision  was  left  him, 
except  the  meat — which  he  left  for  sundry  hawks 
and  parrots  that  were  eyeing  his  proceedings  appa- 
rently without  fear  of  man.  His  nuggets  he  con- 
cealed in  the  secret  pockets  of  which  I  have  already 
spoken,  keeping  one  bag  alone  accessible. 

He  had  had  his  hair  and  beard  cut  short  on  ship- 
board the  day  before  he  landed.  These  he  now 
dyed  with  a  dye  that  he  had  brought  from  England, 
and  which  in  a  few  minutes  turned  them  very  nearly 
black.  He  also  stained  his  face  and  hands  deep 
brown.  He  hung  his  saddle  and  bridle,  his  English 
boots,  and  his  saddle-bags  on  the  highest  bough 
that  he  could  reach,  and  made  them  fairly  fast  with 
strips  of  flax  leaf,  for  there  was  some  stunted  flax 
growing  on  the  ground  where  he  had  camped.  He 
feared  that,  do  what  he  might,  they  would  not  escape 
the  inquisitive  thievishness  of  the  parrots,  whose 
strong  beaks  could  easily  cut  leather ;  but  he  could 
do  nothing  more.  It  occurs  to  me,  though  my 
father  never  told  me  so,  that  it  was  perhaps  with  a 
view  to  these  birds  that  he  had  chosen  to  put  his 
English  sovereigns  into  a  metal  box,  with  a  clasp  to 
it  which  would  defy  them. 

He  made  a  roll  of  his  blanket,  and  slung  it  over 
his  shoulder ;   he   also   took  his   pipe,  tobacco,  a 

23 


Erewhon   Revisited 

little  tea,  a  few  ship's  biscuits,  and  his  billy  and 
pannikin  ;  matches  and  salt  go  without  saying. 
When  he  had  thus  ordered  everything  as  nearly 
to  his  satisfaction  as  he  could,  he  looked  at  his 
watch  for  the  last  time,  as  he  believed,  till  many 
weeks  should  have  gone  by,  and  found  it  to  be 
about  seven  o'clock.  Remembering  what  trouble 
it  had  got  him  into  years  before,  he  took  down  his 
saddle-bags,  reopened  them,  and  put  the  watch 
inside.  He  then  set  himself  to  climb  the  moun- 
tain side,  towards  the  saddle  on  which  he  had  seen 
the  statues. 


24 


CHAPTER    III 

MY   FATHER   WHILE   CAMPING    IS   ACCOSTED 
BY   PROFESSORS   HANKY   AND   PANKY 

My  father  found  the  ascent  more  fatiguing  than 
he  remembered  it  to  have  been.  The  cHmb,  he 
said,  was  steady,  and  took  him  between  four  and 
five  hours,  as  near  as  he  could  guess,  now  that  he 
had  no  watch  ;  but  it  offered  nothing  that  could 
be  called  a  difficulty,  and  the  watercourse  that 
came  down  from  the  saddle  was  a  sufficient  guide  ; 
once  or  twice  there  were  waterfalls,  but  they  did 
not  seriously  delay  him. 

After  he  had  climbed  some  three  thousand  feet, 
he  began  to  be  on  the  alert  for  some  sound  of 
ghostly  chanting  from  the  statues  ;  but  he  heard 
nothing,  and  toiled  on  till  he  came  to  a  sprinkling 
of  fresh  snow — part  of  the  fall  which  he  had 
observed  on  the  preceding  day  as  having  whitened 
the  higher  mountains ;  he  knew,  therefore,  that 
he  must  now  be  nearing  the  saddle.  The  snow 
grew  rapidly  deeper,  and  by  the  time  he  reached 
the  statues  the  ground  was  covered  to  a  depth  of 
two  or  three  inches. 

He  found  the  statues  smaller  than  he  had  ex- 
pected. He  had  said  in  his  book — written  many 
months  after  he  had  seen   them— that  they  were 

25 


Erewhon   Revisited 

about  six  times  the  size  of  life,  but  he  now  thought 
that  four  or  five  times  would  have  been  enough  to 
say.  Their  mouths  were  much  clogged  with  snow, 
so  that  even  though  there  had  been  a  strong  wind 
(which  there  was  not)  they  would  not  have  chanted. 
In  other  respects  he  found  them  not  less  mysteri- 
ously impressive  than  at  first.  He  walked  two  or 
three  times  all  round  them,  and  then  went  on. 

The  snow  did  not  continue  far  down,  but  before 
long  my  father  entered  a  thick  bank  of  cloud,  and 
had  to  feel  his  way  cautiously  along  the  stream 
that  descended  from  the  pass.  It  was  some  two 
hours  before  he  emerged  into  clear  air,  and  found 
himself  on  the  level  bed  of  an  old  lake  now  grassed 
over.  He  had  quite  forgotten  this  feature  of  the 
descent — perhaps  the  clouds  had  hung  over  it ;  he 
was  overjoyed,  however,  to  find  that  the  flat  ground 
abounded  with  a  kind  of  quail,  larger  than  ours,  and 
hardly,  if  at  all,  smaller  than  a  partridge.  The  abun- 
dance of  these  quails  surprised  him,  for  he  did 
not  remember  them  as  plentiful  anywhere  on  the 
Erewhonian  side  of  the  mountains. 

The  Erewhonian  quail,  like  its  now  nearly,  if  not 

quite,   extinct    New   Zealand    congener,   can    take 

three   successive  flights  of   a  few  yards  each,  but 

then   becomes  exhausted ;    hence  quails   are  only 

found  on  ground  that  is  never  burned,  and  where 

there  are  no  wild  animals  to  molest  them  ;  the  cats 

and   dogs  that  accompany   European    civilisation 

soon  exterminate  them  ;    my  father,  therefore,  felt 

safe  in  concluding  that  he  was  still  far  from  any 

26 


Hanky  and   Panky 

village.  Moreover  he  could  see  no  sheep  or  goat's 
dung ;  and  this  surprised  him,  for  he  thought  he 
had  found  signs  of  pasturage  much  higher  than 
this.  Doubtless,  he  said  to  himself,  when  he  wrote 
his  book  he  had  forgotten  how  long  the  descent 
had  been.  But  it  was  odd,  for  the  grass  was  good 
feed  enough,  and  ought,  he  considered,  to  have 
been  well  stocked. 

Tired  with  his  climb,  during  which  he  had  not 
rested  to  take  food,  but  had  eaten  biscuits,  as  he 
walked,  he  gave  himself  a  good  long  rest,  and  when 
refreshed,  he  ran  down  a  couple  of  dozen  quails, 
some  of  which  he  meant  to  eat  when  he  camped  for 
the  night,  while  the  others  would  help  him  out 
of  a  difficulty  which  had  been  troubling  him  for 
some  time. 

What  was  he  to  say  when  people  asked  him,  as 
they  were  sure  to  do,  how  he  was  living  ?  And 
how  was  he  to  get  enough  Erewhonian  money  to 
keep  him  going  till  he  could  find  some  safe  means 
of  selling  a  few  of  his  nuggets  ?  He  had  had  a 
little  Erewhonian  money  when  he  went  up  in  the 
balloon,  but  had  thrown  it  over,  with  everything 
else  except  the  clothes  he  wore  and  his  MSS.,  when 
the  balloon  was  nearing  the  water.  He  had 
nothing  with  him  that  he  dared  offer  for  sale,  and 
though  he  had  plenty  of  gold,  was  in  reality 
penniless. 

When,  therefore,  he  saw  the  quails,  he  again  felt 
as  though  some  friendly  spirit  was  smoothing  his 
way  before  him.      What  more   easy   than   to   sell 

27 


Erewhon   Revisited 

them  at  Coldharbour  (for  so  the  name  of  the 
town  in  which  he  had  been  imprisoned  should  be 
translated),  where  he  knew  they  were  a  delicacy, 
and  would  fetch  him  the  value  of  an  English 
shilling  a  piece  ? 

It  took  him  between  two  and  three  hours  to 
catch  two  dozen.  When  he  had  thus  got  what 
he  considered  a  sufBcient  stock,  he  tied  their  legs 
together  with  rushes,  and  ran  a  stout  stick  through 
the  whole  lot.  Soon  afterwards  he  came  upon  a 
wood  of  stunted  pines,  which,  though  there  was 
not  much  undergrowth,  nevertheless  afforded  con- 
siderable shelter  and  enabled  him  to  gather  wood 
enough  to  make  himself  a  good  fire.  This  was 
acceptable,  for  though  the  days  were  long,  it  was 
now  evening,  and  as  soon  as  the  sun  had  gone  the 
air  became  crisp  and  frosty. 

Here  he  resolved  to  pass  the  night.  He  chose  a 
part  where  the  trees  were  thickest,  lit  his  fire, 
plucked  and  cleaned  four  quails,  filled  his  billy 
with  water  from  the  stream  hard  by,  made  tea 
in  his  pannikin,  grilled  two  of  his  birds  on  the 
embers,  ate  them,  and  when  he  had  done  all  this, 
he  lit  his  pipe  and  began  to  think  things  over. 

"  So  far  so  good,"  said  he  to  himself ;  but  hardly 
had  the  words  passed  through  his  mind  before  he 
was  startled  by  the  sound  of  voices,  still  at  some 
distance,  but  evidently  drawing  towards  him. 

He  instantly  gathered  up  his  billy,  pannikin,  tea, 
biscuits,  and  blanket,  all  of  which  he  had  deter- 
mined to  discard  and  hide  on  the  following  morn- 

28 


Hanky  and  Panky 

ing;  everything  that  could  betray  him  he  carried 
full  haste  into  the  wood  some  few  yards  off,  in  the 
direction  opposite  to  that  from  which  the  voices 
were  coming,  but  he  let  his  quails  lie  where  they 
were,  and  put  his  pipe  and  tobacco  in  his  pocket. 

The  voices  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  it  was 
all  my  father  could  do  to  get  back  and  sit  down 
innocently  by  his  fire,  before  he  could  hear  what 
was  being  said. 

"Thank  goodness,"  said  one  of  the  speakers  (of 
course  in  the  Erewhonian  language),  "  we  seem  to 
be  finding  somebody  at  last.  I  hope  it  is  not  some 
poacher  ;  we  had  better  be  careful." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  the  other.  "  It  must  be  one 
of  the  rangers.  No  one  would  dare  to  light  a  fire 
while  poaching  on  the  King's  preserves.  What 
o'clock  do  you  make  it  ?  " 

**  Half  after  nine."  And  the  watch  was  still  in 
the  speaker's  hand  as  he  emerged  from  darkness 
into  the  glowing  light  of  the  fire.  My  father  glanced 
at  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  exactly  like  the  one  he  had 
worn  on  entering  Erewhon  nearly  twenty  years 
previously. 

The  watch,   however,  was  a  very  small  matter ; 

the  dress  of  these  two  men  (for  there  were  only 

two)  was  far  more  disconcerting.     They  were  not 

in  the  Erewhonian  costume.     The  one  was  dressed 

like  an  Englishman  or  would-be  Englishman,  while 

the  other   was   wearing   the   same  kind  of  clothes 

but  turned  the  wrong  way  round,  so  that  when  his 

face   was  towards  my  father  his  body  seemed  to 

29 


Erewhon   Revisited 

have  its  back  towards  him,  and  vice  versd.  The 
man's  head,  in  fact,  appeared  to  have  been  screwed 
right  round  ;  and  yet  it  was  plain  that  if  he  were 
stripped  he  would  be  found  built  like  other  people. 

What  could  it  all  mean  ?  The  men  were  about 
fifty  years  old.  They  were  well-to-do  people,  well 
clad,  well  fed,  and  were  felt  instinctively  by  my 
father  to  belong  to  the  academic  classes.  That  one 
of  them  should  be  dressed  like  a  sensible  English- 
man dismayed  my  father  as  much  as  that  the  other 
should  have  a  watch,  and  look  as  if  he  had  just 
broken  out  of  Bedlam,  or  as  King  Dagobert  must 
have  looked  if  he  had  worn  all  his  clothes  as  he 
is  said  to  have  worn  his  breeches.  Both  wore 
their  clothes  so  easily — for  he  who  wore  them 
reversed  had  evidently  been  measured  with  a  view 
to  this  absurd  fashion — that  it  was  plain  their  dress 
was  habitual. 

My  father  was  alarmed  as  well  as  astounded, 
for  he  saw  that  what  little  plan  of  a  campaign  he 
had  formed  must  be  reconstructed,  and  he  had 
no  idea  in  what  direction  his  next  move  should 
be  taken  ;  but  he  was  a  ready  man,  and  knew 
that  when  people  have  taken  any  idea  into  their 
heads,  a  little  confirmation  will  fix  it.  A  first  idea 
is  like  a  strong  seedling  ;  it  will  grow  if  it  can. 

In  less  time  than  it  will  have  taken  the  reader 

to  get  through  the  last  foregoing  paragraphs,  my 

father  took  up  the  cue  furnished  him  by  the  second 

speaker. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  going  boldly  up  to  this  gentle- 
30 


Hanky  and  Panky 

man,  "  I  am  one  of  the  rangers,  and  it  is  my  duty 
to  ask  you  what  you  are  doing  here  upon  the 
King's  preserves." 

"Quite  so,  my  man,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "We 
have  been  to  see  the  statues  at  the  head  of  the 
pass,  and  have  a  permit  from  the  Mayor  of 
Sunch'ston  to  enter  upon  the  preserves.  We 
lost  ourselves  in  the  thick  fog,  both  going  and 
coming  back." 

My  father  inwardly  blessed  the  fog.  He  did 
not  catch  the  name  of  the  town,  but  presently 
found  that  it  was  commonly  pronounced  as  I 
have  written  it. 

"  Be  pleased  to  show  it  me,"  said  my  father  in 
his  politest  manner.  On  this  a  document  was 
handed  to  him. 

I  will  here  explain  that  I  shall  translate  the  names 
of  men  and  places,  as  well  as  the  substance  of  the 
document ;  and  I  shall  translate  all  names  in  future, 
Indeed  I  have  just  done  so  in  the  case  of  Sunch'ston. 
As  an  example,  let  me  explain  that  the  true  Ere- 
whonian  names  for  Hanky  and  Panky,  to  whom 
the  reader  will  be  immediately  introduced,  are 
Sukoh  and  Sukop — names  too  cacophonous  to  be 
read  with  pleasure  by  the  English  public.  I  must 
ask  the  reader  to  believe  that  in  all  cases  I  am 
doing  my  best  to  give  the  spirit  of  the  original 
name. 

I  would  also  express  my  regret  that  my  father  did 
not  either  uniformly  keep  to  the  true  Erewhonian 
names,  as  in  the  cases  of  Senoj  Nosnibor,  Ydgrun, 

31 


Erewhon  Revisited 

Thims,  &c. — names  which  occur  constantly  in  Ere- 
whon— or  else  invariably  invent  a  name,  as  he  did 
whenever  he  considered  the  true  name  impossible. 
My  poor  mother's  name,  for  example,  was  really 
Nna  Haras,  and  Mahaina's  Enaj  Ysteb,  which  he 
dared  not  face.  He,  therefore,  gave  these  char- 
acters the  first  names  that  euphony  suggested, 
without  any  attempt  at  translation.  Rightly  or 
wrongly,  I  have  determined  to  keep  consistently  to 
translation  for  all  names  not  used  in  my  father's 
book ;  and  throughout,  whether  as  regards  names 
or  conversations,  I  shall  translate  with  the  freedom 
without  which  no  translation  rises  above  construe 
level. 

Let  me  now  return  to  the  permit.  The  earlier 
part  of  the  document  was  printed,  and  ran  as 
follows  : — 

"Extracts  from  the  Act  for  the  afforesting  of 
certain  lands  lying  between  the  town  of  Sunchild- 
ston,  formerly  called  Coldharbour,  and  the  moim- 
tains  which  bound  the  kingdom  of  Erewhon,  passed 
in  the  year  Three,  being  the  eighth  year  of  the 
reign  of  his  Most  Gracious  Majesty  King  Well- 
beloved  the  Twenty-Second. 

"Whereas  it  is  expedient  to  prevent  any  of  his 
Majesty's  subjects  from  trying  to  cross  over  into 
unknown  lands  beyond  the  mountains,  and  in  like 
manner  to  protect  his  Majesty's  kingdom  from 
intrusion  on  the  part  of  foreign  devils,  it  is  hereby 
enacted  that  certain  lands,  more  particularly  de- 


Hanky  and  Panky 

scribed  hereafter,  shall  be  afforested  and  set  apart 
as  a  hunting-ground  for  his  Majesty's  private  use. 

"  It  is  also  enacted  that  the  Rangers  and  Under- 
rangers  shall  be  required  to  immediately  kill  with- 
out parley  any  foreign  devil  whom  they  may 
encounter  coming  from  the  other  side  of  the 
mountains.  They  are  to  weight  the  body,  and 
throw  it  into  the  Blue  Pool  under  the  waterfall 
shown  on  the  plan  hereto  annexed  ;  but  on  pain 
of  imprisonment  for  life  they  shall  not  reserve  to 
their  own  use  any  article  belonging  to  the  de- 
ceased. Neither  shall  they  divulge  what  they 
have  done  to  any  one  save  the  Head  Ranger, 
who  shall  report  the  circumstances  of  the  case 
fully  and  minutely  to  his  Majesty. 

"As  regards  any  of  his  Majesty's  subjects  who 
may  be  taken  while  trespassing  on  his  Majesty's 
preserves  without  a  special  permit  signed  by  the 
Mayor  of  Sunchildston,  or  any  who  may  be  con- 
victed of  poaching  on  the  said  preserves,  the 
Rangers  shall  forthwith  arrest  them  and  bring 
them  before  the  Mayor  of  Sunchildston,  who 
shall  enquire  into  their  antecedents,  and  punish 
them  with  such  term  of  imprisonment,  with  hard 
labour,  as  he  may  think  fit,  provided  that  no  such 
term  be  of  less  duration  than  twelve  calendar 
months. 

"  For  the  further  provisions  of  the  said  Act, 
those  whom  it  may  concern  are  referred  to  the 
Act  in  full,  a  copy  of  which  may  be  seen  at  the 
official  residence  of  the  Mayor  of  Sunchildston." 

33  C 


Erewhon  Revisited 

Then  followed  in  MS.  "XIX.  xii.  29.  Permit 
Professor  Hanky,  Royal  Professor  of  Worldly 
Wisdom  at  Bridgeford,  seat  of  learning,  city  of 
the  people  who  are  above  suspicion,  and  Pro- 
fessor Panky,  Royal  Professor  of  Unworldly 
Wisdom  in  the  said  city,  or  either  of  them"  [here 
the  MS.  ended,  the  rest  of  the  permit  being  in  print] 
"to  pass  freely  during  the  space  of  forty-eight 
hours  from  the  date  hereof,  over  the  King's  pre- 
serves, provided,  under  pain  of  imprisonment  with 
hard  labour  for  twelve  months,  that  they  do  not 
kill,  nor  cause  to  be  killed,  nor  eat,  if  another  have 
killed,  any  one  or  more  of  his  Majesty's  quails." 

The  signature  was  such  a  scrawl  that  my  father 
could  not  read  it,  but  underneath  was  printed, 
"  Mayor  of  Sunchildston,  formerly  called  Cold- 
harbour." 

What  a  mass  of  information  did  not  my  father 
gather  as  he  read,  but  what  a  far  greater  mass  did 
he  not  see  that  he  must  get  hold  of  ere  he  could 
reconstruct  his  plans  intelligently. 

"The  year  three,"  indeed;  and  XIX.  xii.  29,  in 
Roman  and  Arabic  characters  !  There  were  no 
such  characters  when  he  was  in  Erewhon  before. 
It  flashed  upon  him  that  he  had  repeatedly  shewn 
them  to  the  Nosnibors,  and  had  once  even  written 
them  down.  It  could  not  be  that  .  .  .  No,  it  was 
impossible  ;  and  yet  there  was  the  European  dress, 
aimed  at  by  the  one  Professor,  and  attained  by 
the  other.  Again  "  XIX."  what  was  that  ?  "  xii." 
might  do  for  December,  but  it  was  now  the  4th 

34 


Hanky  and  Panky 

of  December  not  the  29th.  "Afforested"  too? 
Then  that  was  why  he  had  seen  no  sheep  tracks. 
And  how  about  the  quails  he  had  so  innocently 
killed  ?  What  would  have  happened  if  he  had 
tried  to  sell  them  in  Coldharbour  ?  What  other 
like  fatal  error  might  he  not  ignorantly  commit  ? 
And  why  had  Coldharbour  become  Sunchildston  ? 

These  thoughts  raced  through  my  poor  father's 
brain  as  he  slowly  perused  the  paper  handed  to 
him  by  the  Professors.  To  give  himself  time  he 
feigned  to  be  a  poor  scholar,  but  when  he  had 
delayed  as  long  as  he  dared,  he  returned  it  to 
the  one  who  had  given  it  him.  Without  changing 
a  muscle  he  said — 

"Your  permit,  sir,  is  quite  regular.  You  can 
either  stay  here  the  night  or  go  on  to  Sunchildston 
as  you  think  fit.  May  I  ask  which  of  you  two 
gentlemen  is  Professor  Hanky,  and  which  Professor 
Panky  ?" 

"  My  name  is  Panky,"  said  the  one  who  had  the 
watch,  who  wore  his  clothes  reversed,  and  who  had 
thought  my  father  might  be  a  poacher. 

"And  mine  Hanky,"  said  the  other. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Panky,"  he  added,  turning 
to  his  brother  Professor,  "  had  we  not  better  stay 
here  till  sunrise  ?  We  are  both  of  us  tired,  and  this 
fellow  can  make  us  a  good  fire.  It  is  very  dark, 
and  there  will  be  no  moon  this  two  hours.  We 
are  hungry,  but  we  can  hold  out  till  we  get  to 
Sunchildston  ;  it  cannot  be  more  than  eight  or  nine 
miles  further  down." 

35 


Erewhon   Revisited 


Panky  assented,  but  then,  turning  sharply  to  my 
father,  he  said,  "  My  man,  what  are  you  doing  in 
the  forbidden  dress  ?  Why  are  you  not  in  ranger's 
uniform,  and  what  is  the  meaning  of  all  those 
quails  ? "  For  his  seedling  idea  that  my  father 
was  in  reality  a  poacher  was  doing  its  best  to 
grow. 

Quick  as  thought  my  father  answered,  "The 
Head  Ranger  sent  me  a  message  this  morning  to 
deliver  him  three  dozen  quails  at  Sunchildston  by 
to-morrow  afternoon.  As  for  the  dress,  we  can 
run  the  quails  down  quicker  in  it,  and  he  says 
nothing  to  us  so  long  as  we  only  wear  out  old 
clothes  and  put  on  our  uniforms  before  we  near 
the  town.  My  uniform  is  in  the  ranger's  shelter 
an  hour  and  a  half  higher  up  the  valley." 

"  See  what  comes,"  said  Panky,  "  of  having  a 
whippersnapper  not  yet  twenty  years  old  in  the 
responsible  post  of  Head  Ranger.  As  for  this 
fellow,  he  may  be  speaking  the  truth,  but  I  dis- 
trust him." 

"The  man  is  all  right,  Panky,"  said  Hanky,  "  and 
seems  to  be  a  decent  fellow  enough."  Then  to 
my  father,  "  How  many  brace  have  you  got  ? " 
And  he  looked  at  them  a  little  wistfully. 

"  I  have  been  at  it  all  day,  sir,  and  I  have  only 
got  eight  brace.  I  must  run  down  ten  more  brace 
to-morrow." 

"  I  see,  I  see."  Then,  turning  to  Panky,  he  said, 
"  Of  course,  they  are  wanted  for  the  Mayor's  ban- 
quet on   Sunday.     By  the  way,  we  have   not  yet 

36 


Hanky  and  Panky 

received  our   invitation  j   I   suppose  we  shall  find 
it  when  we  get  back  to  Sunchildston." 

"  Sunday,  Sunday,  Sunday  ! "  groaned  my  father 
inwardly ;  but  he  changed  not  a  muscle  of  his  face, 
and  said  stolidly  to  Professor  Hanky,  "  I  think  you 
must  be  right,  sir ;  but  there  was  nothing  said 
about  it  to  me.    I  was  only  told  to  bring  the  birds." 

Thus  tenderly  did  he  water  the  Professor's  second 
seedling.  But  Panky  had  his  seedling  too,  and, 
Cain-like,  was  jealous  that  Hanky's  should  flourish 
while  his  own  was  withering. 

"  And  what,  pray,  my  man,"  he  said  somewhat 
peremptorily  to  my  father,  "  are  those  two  plucked 
quails  doing  ?  Were  you  to  deliver  them  plucked  ? 
And  what  bird  did  those  bones  belong  to  which  I 
see  lying  by  the  fire  with  the  flesh  all  eaten  off 
them  ?  Are  the  under-rangers  allowed  not  only  to 
wear  the  forbidden  dress  but  to  eat  the  King's  quails 
as  well  ?" 

The  form  in  which  the  question  was  asked  gave 
my  father  his  cue.  He  laughed  heartily,  and  said, 
"  Why,  sir,  those  plucked  birds  are  landrails,  not 
quails,  and  those  bones  are  landrail  bones.  Look  at 
this  thigh-bone  ;  was  there  ever  a  quail  with  such  a 
bone  as  that  ?  " 

I  cannot  say  whether  or  no  Professor  Panky  was 
really  deceived  by  the  sweet  effrontery  with  which 
my  father  proffered  him  the  bone.  If  he  was  taken 
in,  his  answer  was  dictated  simply  by  a  donnish 
unwillingness  to  allow  any  one  to  be  better  in- 
formed on  any  subject  than  he  was  himself. 

37 


Erewhon   Revisited 

My  father,  when  I  suggested  this  to  him,  would 
not  hear  of  it.  "  Oh  no,"  he  said  ;  "  the  man  knew 
well  enough  that  I  was  lying."  However  this  may 
be,  the  Professor's  manner  changed. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  "  I  thought  they  were 
landrail  bones,  but  was  not  sure  till  I  had  one  in  my 
hand.  I  see,  too,  that  the  plucked  birds  are  land- 
rails, but  there  is  little  light,  and  I  have  not  often 
seen  them  without  their  feathers." 

"I  think,"  said  my  father  to  me,  "that  Hanky 
knew  what  his  friend  meant,  for  he  said,  '  Panky, 
I  am  very  hungry.'  " 

"  Oh,  Hanky,  Hanky,"  said  the  other,  modulating 
his  harsh  voice  till  it  was  quite  pleasant.  "  Don't 
corrupt  the  poor  man." 

"  Panky,  drop  that ;  we  are  not  at  Bridgeford 
now  ;  I  am  very  hungry,  and  I  believe  half  those 
birds  are  not  quails  but  landrails." 

My  father  saw  he  was  safe.  He  said,  "  Perhaps 
some  of  them  might  prove  to  be  so,  sir,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances.     I  am  a  poor  man,  sir." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Hanky ;  and  he  slipped  a 
sum  equal  to  about  half-a-crown  into  my  father's 
hand. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,  sir,"  said  my 
father,  "  and  if  I  did,  half-a-crown  would  not  be 
nearly  enough." 

"  Hanky,"  said  Panky,  "  you  must  get  this  fellow 
to  give  you  lessons." 


38 


CHAPTER    IV 

MY   FATHER   OVERHEARS   MORE   OF   HANKY   AND 
PANKY'S  CONVERSATION 

My  father,  schooled  under  adversity,  knew  that  it 
was  never  well  to  press  advantage  too  far.  He 
took  the  equivalent  of  five  shillings  for  three  brace, 
which  was  somewhat  less  than  the  birds  would 
have  been  worth  when  things  were  as  he  had 
known  them.  Moreover,  he  consented  to  take  a 
shilling's  worth  of  Musical  Bank  money,  which  (as 
he  has  explained  in  his  book)  has  no  appreciable 
value  outside  these  banks.  He  did  this  because  he 
knew  that  it  would  be  respectable  to  be  seen  carry- 
ing a  little  Musical  Bank  money,  and  also  because 
he  wished  to  give  some  of  it  to  the  British  Museum, 
where  he  knew  that  this  curious  coinage  was  un- 
represented. But  the  coins  struck  him  as  being 
much  thinner  and  smaller  than  he  had  remembered 
them. 

It  was  Panky,  not  Hanky,  who  had  given  him 
the  Musical  Bank  money.  Panky  was  the  greater 
humbug  of  the  two,  for  he  would  humbug  even 
himself — a  thing,  by  the  way,  not  very  hard  to  do ; 
and  yet  he  was  the  less  successful  humbug,  for  he 
could  humbug  no  one  who  was  worth  humbugging 
— not  for  long.     Hanky's  occasional  frankness  put 

39 


Erewhon  Revisited 

people  off  their  guard.  He  was  the  mere  common, 
superficial,  perfunctory  Professor,  who,  being  a 
Professor,  would  of  course  profess,  but  would  not 
lie  more  than  was  in  the  bond  ;  he  was  log-rolled 
and  log-rolling,  but  still,  in  a  robust  wolfish  fashion, 
human. 

Panky,  on  the  other  hand,  was  hardly  human  ; 
he  had  thrown  himself  so  earnestly  into  his  work, 
that  he  had  become  a  living  lie.  If  he  had  had  to 
play  the  part  of  Othello  he  would  have  blacked 
himself  all  over,  and  very  likely  smothered  his 
Desdemona  in  good  earnest.  Hanky  would  hardly 
have  blacked  himself  behind  the  ears,  and  his  Des- 
demona would  have  been  quite  safe. 

Philosophers  are  like  quails  in  the  respect  that 
they  can  take  two  or  three  flights  of  imagination, 
but  rarely  more  without  an  interval  of  repose.  The 
Professors  had  imagined  my  father  to  be  a  poacher 
and  a  ranger ;  they  had  imagined  the  quails  to  be 
wanted  for  Sunday's  banquet  ;  they  had  imagined 
that  they  imagined  (at  least  Panky  had)  that  they 
were  about  to  eat  landrails  ;  they  were  now  ex- 
hausted, and  cowered  down  into  the  grass  of  their 
ordinary  conversation,  paying  no  more  attention  to 
my  father  than  if  he  had  been  a  log.  He,  poor 
man,  drank  in  every  word  they  said,  while  seem- 
ingly intent  on  nothing  but  his  quails,  each  one  of 
which  he  cut  up  with  a  knife  borrowed  from 
Hanky.  Two  had  been  plucked  already,  so  he  laid 
these  at  once  upon  the  clear  embers. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  we   are  to  do  with  our- 
40 


The  Professors  Converse 

selves,"  said  Hanky,  "  till  Sunday.  To  -  day  is 
Thursday— it  is  the  twenty-ninth,  is  it  not  ?  Yes, 
of  course  it  is — Sunday  is  the  first.  Besides,  it  is 
on  our  permit.  To-morrow  we  can  rest ;  what,  I 
wonder,  can  we  do  on  Saturday  ?  But  the  others 
will  be  here  then,  and  we  can  tell  them  about  the 
statues." 

"Yes,  but  mind  you  do  not  blurt  out  anything 
about  the  landrails." 

"  I  think  we  may  tell  Dr.  Downie." 

"  Tell  nobody,"  said  Panky. 

They  then  talked  about  the  statues,  concerning 
which  it  was  plain  that  nothing  was  known.  But 
my  father  soon  broke  in  upon  their  conversation 
with  the  first  instalment  of  quails,  which  a  few 
minutes  had  sufficed  to  cook. 

"  What  a  delicious  bird  a  quail  is,"  said  Hanky. 

"Landrail,  Hanky,  landrail,"  said  the  other  re- 
proachfully. 

Having  finished  the  first  birds  in  a  very  few 
minutes  they  returned  to  the  statues. 

"Old  Mrs.  Nosnibor,"  said  Panky,  "says  the  Sun- 
child  told  her  they  were  symbolic  of  ten  tribes  who 
had  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  sun,  his  father." 

I  make  no  comment  on  my  father's  feelings. 

"Of  the  sun!  his  fiddlesticks'  ends,"  retorted 
Hanky.  "  He  never  called  the  sun  his  father. 
Besides,  from  all  I  have  heard  about  him,  I  take  it 
he  was  a  precious  idiot." 

"O  Hanky,  Hanky  !  you  will  wreck  the  whole 
thing  if  you  ever  allow  yourself  to  talk  in  that  way." 

41 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"  You  are  more  likely  to  wreck  it  yourself,  Panky, 
by  never  doing  so.  People  like  being  deceived, 
but  they  like  also  to  have  an  inkling  of  their  own 
deception,  and  you  never  inkle  them." 

"The  Queen,"  said  Panky,  returning  to  the  sta- 
tues, "  sticks  to  it  that  ..." 

"  Here  comes  another  bird,"  interrupted  Hanky  ; 
"  never  mind  about  the  Queen." 

The  bird  was  soon  eaten,  whereon  Panky  again 
took  up  his  parable  about  the  Queen. 

"The  Queen  says  they  are  connected  with  the 
cult  of  the  ancient  Goddess  Kiss-me-quick." 

"  What  if  they  are  ?  But  the  Queen  sees  Kiss-me- 
quick  in  everything.  Another  quail,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Ranger." 

My  father  brought  up  another  bird  almost  di- 
rectly.    Silence  while  it  was  being  eaten. 

"Talking  of  the  Sunchild,"  said  Panky;  "did  you 
ever  see  him  ?  " 

"Never  set  eyes  on  him,  and  hope  I  never  shall." 

And  so  on  till  the  last  bird  was  eaten. 

"  Fellow,"  said  Panky,  "  fetch  some  more  wood  ; 
the  fire  is  nearly  dead." 

"  I  can  find  no  more,  sir,"  said  my  father,  who 
was  afraid  lest  some  genuine  ranger  might  be  at- 
tracted by  the  light,  and  was  determined  to  let  it  go 
out  as  soon  as  he  had  done  cooking. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Hanky,  "  the  moon  will  be 
up  soon." 

"And  now.  Hanky,"  said  Panky,  "tell  me  what 

you  propose  to  say  on  Sunday.      I   suppose  you 

42 


The  Professors  Converse 

have  pretty  well  made  up  your  mind  about  it  by 
this  time." 

"  Pretty  nearly.  I  shall  keep  it  much  on  the 
usual  lines.  I  shall  dwell  upon  the  benighted  state 
from  which  the  Sunchild  rescued  us,  and  shall  show 
how  the  Musical  Banks,  by  at  once  taking  up  the 
movement,  have  been  the  blessed  means  of  its  now 
almost  universal  success.  I  shall  talk  about  the 
immortal  glory  shed  upon  Sunch'ston  by  the  Sun- 
child's  residence  in  the  prison,  and  wind  up  with 
the  Sunchild  Evidence  Society,  and  an  earnest 
appeal  for  funds  to  endow  the  canonries  required 
for  the  due  service  of  the  temple." 

"  Temple  !  what  temple  ?  "  groaned  my  father 
inwardly. 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  the  four 
black  and  white  horses  ?  " 

"  Stick  to  them,  of  course — unless  I  make  them 
six." 

"  I  really  do  not  see  why  they  might  not  have 
been  horses." 

"  I  dare  say  you  do  not,"  returned  the  other  drily, 
"  but  they  were  black  and  white  storks,  and  you 
know  that  as  well  as  I  do.  Still,  they  have  caught 
on,  and  they  are  in  the  altar-piece,  prancing  and 
curvetting  magnificently,  so  I  shall  trot  them  out." 

"Altar-piece  I  Altar-piece!"  again  groaned  my 
father  inwardly. 

He  need  not  have  groaned,  for  when  he  came  to 
see  the  so-called  altar-piece  he  found  that  the  table 
above  which  it  was  placed  had  nothing  in  common 

43 


Erewhon   Revisited 

with  the  altar  in  a  Christian  church.  It  was  a  mere 
table,  on  which  were  placed  two  bowls  full  of 
Musical  Bank  coins  ;  two  cashiers,  who  sat  on 
either  side  of  it,  dispensed  a  few  of  these  to  all 
comers,  while  there  was  a  box  in  front  of  it  wherein 
people  deposited  coin  of  the  realm  according  to 
their  will  or  ability.  The  idea  of  sacrifice  was  not 
contemplated,  and  the  position  of  the  table,  as  well 
as  the  name  given  to  it,  was  an  instance  of  the  way 
in  which  the  Erewhonians  had  caught  names  and 
practices  from  my  father,  without  understanding 
what  they  either  were  or  meant.  So,  again,  when 
Professor  Hanky  had  spoken  of  canonries,  he  had 
none  but  the  vaguest  idea  of  what  a  canonry  is. 

I  may  add  further  that  as  a  boy  my  father  had 
had  his  Bible  well  drilled  into  him,  and  never  for- 
got it.  Hence  biblical  passages  and  expressions 
had  been  often  in  his  mouth,  as  the  effect  of  mere 
unconscious  cerebration.  The  Erewhonians  had 
caught  many  of  these,  sometimes  corrupting  them 
so  that  they  were  hardly  recognizable.  Things 
that  he  remembered  having  said  were  continually 
meeting  him  during  the  few  days  of  his  second 
visit,  and  it  shocked  him  deeply  to  meet  some 
gross  travesty  of  his  own  words,  or  of  words  more 
sacred  than  his  own,  and  yet  to  be  unable  to  cor- 
rect it.  "I  wonder,"  he  said  to  me,  "that  no  one 
has  ever  hit  on  this  as  a  punishment  for  the  damned 
in  Hades." 

Let  me  now  return  to  Professor  Hanky,  whom 
I  fear  that  I  have  left  too  long. 

44 


The  Professors  Converse 

"  And  of  course,"  he  continued,  "  I  shall  say  all 
sorts  of  pretty  things  about  the  Mayoress — for  I  sup- 
pose we  must  not  even  think  of  her  as  Yram  now." 

"The  Mayoress,"  replied  Panky,  "is  a  very 
dangerous  woman  ;  see  how  she  stood  out  about 
the  way  in  which  the  Sunchild  had  worn  his 
clothes  before  they  gave  him  the  then  Erewhonian 
dress.  Besides,  she  is  a  sceptic  at  heart,  and  so 
is  that  precious  son  of  hers." 

"  She  was  quite  right,"  said  Hanky,  with  some- 
thing of  a  snort.  "  She  brought  him  his  dinner 
while  he  was  still  wearing  the  clothes  he  came  in, 
and  if  men  do  not  notice  how  a  man  wears  his 
clothes,  women  do.  Besides,  there  are  many  living 
who  saw  him  wear  them." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Panky,  "  but  we  should  never 
have  talked  the  King  over  if  we  had  not  humoured 
him  on  this  point.  Yram  nearly  wrecked  us  by 
her  obstinacy.  If  we  had  not  frightened  her,  and 
if  your  study.  Hanky,  had  not  happened  to  have 
been  burned  .  .  ." 

"  Come,  come,  Panky,  no  more  of  that." 

"  Of  course  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  was  an  acci- 
dent ;  nevertheless  if  your  study  had  not  been 
accidentally  burned,  on  the  very  night  the  clothes 
were  entrusted  to  you  for  earnest,  patient,  careful, 
scientific  investigation — and  Yram  very  nearly 
burned  too — we  should  never  have  carried  it 
through.  See  what  work  we  had  to  get  the  King 
to  allow  the  way  in  which  the  clothes  were  worn 
to  be  a  matter  of   opinion,  not  dogma.     What   a 

45 


Erewhon   Revisited 

pity  it  is  that  the  the  clothes  were  not  burned 
before  the  King's  tailor  had  copied  them." 

Hanky  laughed  heartily  enough.  "  Yes,"  he  said, 
"  it  was  touch  and  go.  Why,  I  wonder,  could  not 
the  Queen  have  put  the  clothes  on  a  dummy  that 
would  show  back  from  front  ?  As  soon  as  it  was 
brought  into  the  council  chamber  the  King  jumped 
to  a  conclusion,  and  we  had  to  bundle  both  dummy 
and  Yram  out  of  the  royal  presence,  for  neither 
she  nor  the  King  would  budge  an  inch. 

Even  Panky  smiled.  "What  could  we  do? 
The  common  people  almost  worship  Yram  ;  and  so 
does  her  husband,  though  her  fair-haired  eldest  son 
was  born  barely  seven  months  after  marriage.  The 
people  in  these  parts  like  to  think  that  the  Sun- 
child's  blood  is  in  the  country,  and  yet  they  swear 
through  thick  and  thin  that  he  is  the  Mayor's  duly 
begotten  offspring — Faugh  !  Do  you  think  they 
would  have  stood  his  being  jobbed  into  the  ranger- 
ship  by  any  one  else  but  Yram  ?  " 

My  father's  feelings  may  be  imagined,  but  I  will 
not  here  interrupt  the  Professors. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Hanky;   "for  men  must  rob 

and  women  must  job  so  long  as  the  world  goes  on. 

I  did  the  best    I   could.      The  King  would  never 

have  embraced  Sunchildism  if  I  had  not  told  him 

he  was  right ;  then,  when  satisfied  that  we  agreed 

with   him,    he   yielded   to    popular   prejudice   and 

allowed  the  question  to  remain  open.     One  of  his 

Royal  Professors  was  to  wear  the  clothes  one  way, 

and  the  other  the  other." 

46 


The  Professors  Converse 

"  My  way  of  wearing  them,"  said  Panky,  "  is  much 
the  most  convenient." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Hanky  warmly.  On  this 
the  two  Professors  fell  out,  and  the  discussion  grew 
so  hot  that  my  father  interfered  by  advising  them 
not  to  talk  so  loud  lest  another  ranger  should  hear 
them.  "  You  know,"  he  said,  "  there  are  a  good 
many  landrail  bones  lying  about,  and  it  might  be 
awkward." 

The  Professors  hushed  at  once.  "  By  the  way," 
said  Panky,  after  a  pause,  "  it  is  very  strange  about 
those  footprints  in  the  snow.  The  man  had  evi- 
dently walked  round  the  statues  two  or  three  times, 
as  though  they  were  strange  to  him,  and  he  had 
certainly  come  from  the  other  side." 

"It  was  one  of  the  rangers,"  said  Hanky  im- 
patiently, "  who  had  gone  a  little  beyond  the  statues, 
and  come  back  again." 

"  Then  we  should  have  seen  his  footprints  as  he 
went.     I  am  glad  I  measured  them." 

"  There  is  nothing  in  it ;  but  what  were  your 
measurements  ?  " 

"  Eleven  inches  by  four  and  a  half ;  nails  on  the 
soles  ;  one  nail  missing  on  the  right  foot  and  two  on 
the  left."  Then,  turning  to  my  father  quickly,  he  said, 
"  My  man,  allow  me  to  have  a  look  at  your  boots." 

"  Nonsense,  Panky,  nonsense  ! " 

Now  my  father  by  this  time  was  wondering 
whether  he  should  not  set  upon  these  two  men, 
kill  them  if  he  could,  and  make  the  best  of  his  way 

back,  but  he  had  still  a  card  to  play. 

47 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"Certainly,  sir,"  said  he,  "but  I  should  tell  you 
that  they  are  not  my  boots." 

He  took  off  his  right  boot  and  handed  it  to 
Panky. 

"  Exactly  so  !  Eleven  inches  by  four  and  a  half, 
and  one  nail  missing.  And  now,  Mr.  Ranger,  will 
you  be  good  enough  to  explain  how  you  became 
possessed  of  that  boot.  You  need  not  show  me 
the  other."  And  he  spoke  like  an  examiner  who 
was  confident  that  he  could  floor  his  examinee  in 
vivd  voce. 

"You  know  our  orders,"  answered  my  father, 
"you  have  seen  them  on  your  permit.  I  met  one 
of  those  foreign  devils  from  the  other  side,  of 
whom  we  have  had  more  than  one  lately  ;  he  came 
from  out  of  the  clouds  that  hang  higher  up,  and 
as  he  had  no  permit  and  could  not  speak  a  word 
of  our  language,  I  gripped  him,  flung  him,  and 
strangled  him.  Thus  far  I  was  only  obeying 
orders,  but  seeing  how  much  better  his  boots  were 
than  mine,  and  finding  that  they  would  fit  me,  I 
resolved  to  keep  them.  You  may  be  sure  I 
should  not  have  done  so  if  I  had  known  there 
was  snow  on  the  top  of  the  pass." 

"He  could  not  invent  that,"  said  Hanky;  "it  is 
plain  he  has  not  been  up  to  the  statues." 

Panky  was  staggered.  "  And  of  course,"  said 
he  ironically,  "you  took  nothing  from  this  poor 
wretch  except  his  boots." 

"  Sir,"   said   my   father,    "  I    will    make   a   clean 

breast  of  everything.     I  flung  his  body,  his  clothes, 

48 


The  Professors  Converse 

and  my  own  old  boots  into  the  pool ;  but  I  kept 
his  blanket,  some  things  he  used  for  cooking,  and 
some  strange  stuff  that  looks  like  dried  leaves,  as 
well  as  a  small  bag  of  something  which  I  believe 
is  gold.  I  thought  I  could  sell  the  lot  to  some 
dealer  in  curiosities  who  would  ask  no  questions." 

"And  what,  pray,  have  you  done  with  all  these 
things?" 

"  They  are  here,  sir."  And  as  he  spoke  he  dived 
into  the  wood,  returning  with  the  blanket,  billy, 
pannikin,  tea,  and  the  little  bag  of  nuggets,  which 
he  had  kept  accessible. 

"This  is  very  strange,"  said  Hanky,  who  was 
beginning  to  be  afraid  of  my  father  when  he 
learned  that  he  sometimes  killed  people. 

Here  the  Professors  talked  hurriedly  to  one 
another  in  a  tongue  which  my  father  could  not 
understand,  but  which  he  felt  sure  was  the  hypo- 
thetical language  of  which  he  has  spoken  in  his 
book. 

Presently  Hanky  said  to  my  father  quite  civilly, 
"And  what,  my  good  man,  do  you  propose  to  do 
with  all  these  things  ?  I  should  tell  you  at  once 
that  what  you  take  to  be  gold  is  nothing  of  the 
kind  ;  it  is  a  base  metal,  hardly,  if  at  all,  worth  more 
than  copper." 

"  I  have  had  enough  of  them  ;  to-morrow  morn- 
ing I  shall  take  them  with  me  to  the  Blue  Pool, 
and  drop  them  into  it." 

"  It  is  a  pity  you  should  do  that,"  said  Hanky 
musingly:   "the  things  are  interesting  as  curiosi- 

49  D 


Erewhon   Revisited 

ties,  and  —  and  —  and  —  what  will  you  take  for 
them  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  do   it,   sir,"  answered   my   father. 

"  I    would    not   do   it,    no,    not    for "    and    he 

named  a  sum  equivalent  to  about  five  pounds  of 
our  money.  For  he  wanted  Erewhonian  money, 
and  thought  it  worth  his  while  to  sacrifice  his 
ten  pounds'  worth  of  nuggets  in  order  to  get  a 
supply  of  current  coin. 

Hanky  tried  to  beat  him  down,  assuring 
him  that  no  curiosity  dealer  would  give  half  as 
much,  and  my  father  so  far  yielded  as  to  take 
£^,  los.  in  silver,  which,  as  I  have  already  ex- 
plained, would  not  be  worth  more  than  half  a 
sovereign  in  gold.  At  this  figure  a  bargain  was 
struck,  and  the  Professors  paid  up  without  offering 
him  a  single  Musical  Bank  coin.  They  wanted 
to  include  the  boots  in  the  purchase,  but  here  my 
father  stood  out. 

But  he  could  not  stand  out  as  regards  another 
matter,  which  caused  him  some  anxiety.  Panky 
insisted  that  my  father  should  give  them  a  receipt 
for  the  money,  and  there  was  an  altercation  be- 
tween the  Professors  on  this  point,  much  longer 
than  I  can  here  find  space  to  give.  Hanky  argued 
that  a  receipt  was  useless,  inasmuch  as  it  would 
be  ruin  to  my  father  ever  to  refer  to  the  subject 
again.  Panky,  however,  was  anxious,  not  lest 
my  father  should  again  claim  the  money,  but 
(though  he  did  not  say  so  outright)  lest  Hanky 
should  claim  the  whole  purchase  as  his  own.     In 

50 


The  Professors  Converse 

the  end  Panky,  for  a  wonder,  carried  the  day, 
and  a  receipt  was  drawn  up  to  the  effect  that 
the  undersigned  acknowledged  to  have  received 
from  Professors  Hanky  and  Panky  the  sum  of 
£^,  los.  (I  translate  the  amount),  as  joint  pur- 
chasers of  certain  pieces  of  yellow  ore,  a  blanket, 
and  sundry  articles  found  without  an  owner  in 
the  King's  preserves.  This  paper  was  dated,  as 
the  permit  had  been,  XIX.  xii.  29. 

My  father,  generally  so  ready,  was  at  his  wits' 
end  for  a  name,  and  could  think  of  none  but 
Mr.  Nosnibor's.  Happily,  remembering  that  this 
gentleman  had  also  been  called  Senoj — a  name 
common  enough  in  Erewhon — he  signed  himself 
"  Senoj,  Under-ranger." 

Panky  was  now  satisfied.  "We  will  put  it  in 
the  bag,"  he  said,  "  with  the  pieces  of  yellow 
ore." 

"  Put  it  where  you  like,"  said  Hanky  con- 
temptuously ;  and  into  the  bag  it  was  put. 

When  all  was  now  concluded,  my  father  laugh- 
ingly said,  "  If  you  have  dealt  unfairly  by  me,  I  for- 
give you.  My  motto  is,  '  Forgive  us  our  trespasses, 
as  we  forgive  them  that  trespass  against  us.' " 

"  Repeat  those  last  words,"  said  Panky  eagerly. 
My  father  was  alarmed  at  his  manner,  but  thought 
it  safer  to  repeat  them. 

"  You  hear  that,  Hanky  ?  I  am  convinced ;  I 
have  not  another  word  to  say.  The  man  is  a 
true  Erewhonian  ;  he  has  our  corrupt  reading  of 
the  Sunchild's  prayer." 

51 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"  Please  explain." 

"  Why,  can  you  not  see  ? "  said  Panky,  who 
was  by  way  of  being  great  at  conjectural  emenda- 
tions. "Can  you  not  see  how  impossible  it  is  for 
the  Sunchild,  or  any  of  the  people  to  whom  he 
declared  (as  we  now  know  provisionally)  that  he 
belonged,  could  have  made  the  forgiveness  of  his 
own  sins  depend  on  the  readiness  with  which 
he  forgave  other  people  ?  No  man  in  his  senses 
would  dream  of  such  a  thing.  It  would  be  asking 
a  supposed  all-powerful  being  not  to  forgive  his 
sins  at  all,  or  at  best  to  forgive  them  imperfectly. 
No;  Yram  got  it  wrong.  She  mistook  'but  do 
not '  for  '  as  we.'  The  sound  of  the  words  is 
very  much  alike ;  the  correct  reading  should 
obviously  be,  '  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,  but  do 
not  forgive  them  that  trespass  against  us.'  This 
makes  sense,  and  turns  an  impossible  prayer  into 
one  that  goes  straight  to  the  heart  of  every  one 
of  us."  Then,  turning  to  my  father,  he  said, 
"You  can  see  this,  my  man,  can  you  not,  as 
soon  as  it  is  pointed  out  to  you  ? " 

My  father  said  that  he  saw  it  now,  but  had  always 
heard  the  words  as  he  had  himself  spoken  them. 

"  Of  course  you  have,  my  good  fellow,  and  it  is 
because  of  this  that  I  know  they  never  can  have 
reached  you  except  from  an  Erewhonian  source." 

Hanky  smiled,  snorted,  and  muttered  in  an  under- 
tone, "  I  shall  begin  to  think  that  this  fellow  is  a 
foreign  devil  after  all." 

"And  now,  gentlemen,"  said  my  father,  "the 
52 


The  Professors  Converse 

moon  is  risen.  I  must  be  after  the  quails  at  day- 
break ;  I  will  therefore  go  to  the  ranger's  shelter  " 
(a  shelter,  by  the  way,  which  existed  only  in  my 
father's  invention),  "  and  get  a  couple  of  hours' 
sleep,  so  as  to  be  both  close  to  the  quail-ground 
and  fresh  for  running.  You  are  so  near  the 
boundary  of  the  preserves  that  you  will  not  want 
your  permit  further  ;  no  one  will  meet  you,  and 
should  any  one  do  so,  you  need  only  give  your 
names  and  say  that  you  have  made  a  mistake.  You 
will  have  to  give  it  up  to-morrow  at  the  Ranger's 
office  ;  it  will  save  you  trouble  if  I  collect  it  now, 
and  give  it  up  when  I  deliver  my  quails. 

"As  regards  the  curiosities,  hide  them  as  you  best 
can  outside  the  limits.  I  recommend  you  to  carry 
them  at  once  out  of  the  forest,  and  rest  beyond  the 
limits  rather  than  here.  You  can  then  recover 
them  whenever,  and  in  whatever  way,  you  may 
find  convenient.  But  I  hope  you  will  say  nothing 
about  any  foreign  devil's  having  come  over  on  to 
this  side.  Any  whisper  to  this  effect  unsettles 
people's  minds,  and  they  are  too  much  unsettled 
already ;  hence  our  orders  to  kill  any  one  from 
over  there  at  once,  and  to  tell  no  one  but  the  Head 
Ranger.  I  was  forced  by  you,  gentlemen,  to  dis- 
obey these  orders  in  self-defence  ;  I  must  trust  your 
generosity  to  keep  what  I  have  told  you  secret.  I 
shall,  of  course,  report  it  to  the  Head  Ranger.  And 
now,  if  you  think  proper,  you  can  give  me  up  your 
permit." 

All  this  was  so  plausible  that  the  Professors  gave 


Erewhon   Revisited 

up  their  permit  without  a  word  but  thanks.  They 
bundled  their  curiosities  hurriedly  into  "the  poor 
foreign  devil's"  blanket,  reserving  a  more  careful 
packing  till  they  were  out  of  the  preserves.  They 
wished  my  father  a  very  good  night,  and  all  success 
with  his  quails  in  the  morning ;  they  thanked  him 
again  for  the  care  he  had  taken  of  them  in  the 
matter  of  the  landrails,  and  Panky  even  went  so 
far  as  to  give  him  a  few  Musical  Bank  coins,  which 
he  gratefully  accepted.  They  then  started  off  in  the 
direction  of  Sunch'ston. 

My  father  gathered  up  the  remaining  quails,  some 
of  which  he  meant  to  eat  in  the  morning,  while  the 
others  he  would  throw  away  as  soon  as  he  could 
find  a  safe  place.  He  turned  towards  the  moun- 
tains, but  before  he  had  gone  a  dozen  yards  he 
heard  a  voice,  which  he  recognised  as  Panky's, 
shouting  after  him,  and  saying — 

"  Mind  you  do  not  forget  the  true  reading  of  the 
Sunchild's  prayer." 

"You  are  an  old  fool,"  shouted  my  father  in 
English,  knowing  that  he  could  hardly  be  heard, 
still  less  understood,  and  thankful  to  relieve  his 
feelings. 


M 


CHAPTER   V 

MY  FATHER  MEETS  A  SON,  OF  WHOSE  EXISTENCE 
HE  WAS  IGNORANT,  AND  STRIKES  A  BARGAIN 
WITH   HIM 

The  incidents  recorded  in  the  two  last  chapters  had 
occupied  about  two  hours,  so  that  it  was  nearly 
midnight  before  my  father  could  begin  to  retrace 
his  steps  and  make  towards  the  camp  that  he  had 
left  that  morning.  This  was  necessary,  for  he  could 
not  go  any  further  in  a  costume  that  he  now  knew 
to  be  forbidden.  At  this  hour  no  ranger  was  likely 
to  meet  him  before  he  reached  the  statues,  and  by 
making  a  push  for  it  he  could  return  in  time  to 
cross  the  limits  of  the  preserves  before  the  Pro- 
fessors' permit  had  expired.  If  challenged,  he  must 
brazen  it  out  that  he  was  one  or  other  of  the 
persons  therein  named. 

Fatigued  though  he  was,  he  reached  the  statues, 
as  near  as  he  could  guess,  at  about  three  in  the 
morning.  What  little  wind  there  had  been  was 
warm,  so  that  the  tracks,  which  the  Professors  must 
have  seen  shortly  after  he  had  made  them,  had 
disappeared.  The  statues  looked  very  weird  in  the 
moonlight  but  they  were  not  chanting. 

While  ascending,  he  pieced  together  the  informa- 
tion he  had  picked  up  from  the  Professors.  Plainly, 
the  Sunchild,  or  child  of  the  sun,  was  none  other 

55 


Erewhon   Revisited 

than  himself,  and  the  new  name  of  Coldharbour 
was  doubtless  intended  to  commemorate  the  fact 
that  this  was  the  first  town  he  had  reached  in 
Erewhon.  Plainly,  also,  he  was  supposed  to  be  of 
superhuman  origin — his  flight  in  the  balloon  having 
been  not  unnaturally  believed  to  be  miraculous. 
The  Erewhonians  had  for  centuries  been  effacing 
all  knowledge  of  their  former  culture ;  archaeo- 
logists, indeed,  could  still  glean  a  little  from 
museums,  and  from  volumes  hard  to  come  by, 
and  still  harder  to  understand ;  but  archaeologists 
were  few,  and  even  though  they  had  made  re- 
searches (which  they  may  or  may  not  have  done), 
their  labours  had  never  reached  the  masses.  What 
wonder,  then,  that  the  mushroom  spawn  of  myth, 
ever  present  in  an  atmosphere  highly  charged  with 
ignorance,  had  germinated  in  a  soil  so  favourably 
prepared  for  its  reception  ? 

He  saw  it  all  now.  It  was  twenty  years  next 
Sunday  since  he  and  my  mother  had  eloped. 
That  was  the  meaning  of  XIX.  xii.  29.  They  had 
made  a  new  era,  dating  from  the  day  of  his  return 
to  the  palace  of  the  sun  with  a  bride  who  was 
doubtless  to  unite  the  Erewhonian  nature  with 
that  of  the  sun.  The  New  Year,  then,  would  date 
from  Sunday,  December  7,  which  would  therefore 
become  XX.  i.  i.  The  Thursday,  now  nearly  if 
not  quite  over,  being  only  two  days  distant  from 
the  end  of  a  month  of  thirty-one  days,  which  was 
also  the  last  of  the  year,  would  be  XIX.  xii.  29, 
as  on  the  Professors'  permit. 

56 


Father  and  Son 


I  should  like  to  explain  here  what  will  appear 
more  clearly  on   a  later   page — I  mean,  that  the 
Erewhonians,  according  to  their  new  system,  do 
not  believe  the  sun  to  be  a  god  except  as  regards 
this  world  and  his  other  planets.     My  father  had 
told  them  a  little  about  astronomy,  and  had  assured 
them   that  all  the  fixed  stars  were  suns  like  our 
own,  with    planets   revolving   round   them,   which 
were  probably  tenanted  by  intelligent  living  beings, 
however  unlike  they  might  be  to  ourselves.     From 
this  they  evolved  the  theory  that  the  sun  was  the 
ruler  of  this  planetary  system,  and  that  he  must 
be  personified,  as  they  had  personified  the  air-god, 
the  gods  of  time  and  space,  hope,  justice,  and  the 
other  deities  mentioned  in  my  father's  book.    They 
retain   their  old  belief  in  the  actual  existence  of 
these  gods,  but  they  now  make  them  all  subordi- 
nate to  the  sun.     The  nearest  approach  they  make 
to  our  own  conception  of  God  is  to  say  that  He 
is  the  ruler  over  all  the  suns  throughout  the  uni- 
verse— the  suns  being  to  Him  much  as  our  planets 
and  their   denizens   are   to   our   own    sun.     They 
deny  that  He  takes  more  interest  in  one  sun  and 
its  system   than    in    another.      All   the   suns  with 
their  attendant  planets  are  supposed  to  be  equally 
His  children,  and  He  deputes  to  each  sun  the  super- 
vision and  protection  of  its  own  system.     Hence 
they  say  that  though  we  may  pray  to  the  air-god, 
&c.,  and  even  to  the  sun,  we  must  not  pray  to 
God.     We  may  be  thankful  to   Him  for  watching 
over  the  suns,  but  we  must  not  go  further. 

57 


Erewhon   Revisited 

Going  back  to  my  father's  reflections,  he  per- 
ceived that  the  Erewhonians  had  not  only  adopted 
our  calendar,  as  he  had  repeatedly  explained  it  to 
the  Nosnibors,  but  had  taken  our  week  as  well, 
and  were  making  Sunday  a  high  day,  just  as  we 
do.  Next  Sunday,  in  commemoration  of  the 
twentieth  year  after  his  ascent,  they  were  about 
to  dedicate  a  temple  to  him  ;  in  this  there  was 
to  be  a  picture  showing  himself  and  his  earthly 
bride  on  their  heavenward  journey,  in  a  chariot 
drawn  by  four  black  and  white  horses — which, 
however.  Professor  Hanky  had  positively  affirmed 
to  have  been  only  storks. 

Here  I  interrupted  my  father.  "  But  were  there," 
I  said,  "  any  storks  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  ''  As  soon  as  I  heard 
Hanky's  words  I  remembered  that  a  flight  of  some 
four  or  five  of  the  large  storks  so  common  in 
Erewhon  during  the  summer  months  had  been 
wheeling  high  aloft  in  one  of  those  aerial  dances 
that  so  much  delight  them.  I  had  quite  forgotten 
it,  but  it  came  back  to  me  at  once  that  these  crea- 
tures, attracted  doubtless  by  what  they  took  to  be 
an  unknown  kind  of  bird,  swooped  down  towards 
the  balloon  and  circled  round  it  like  so  many 
satellites  to  a  heavenly  body.  I  was  fearful  lest 
they  should  strike  at  it  with  their  long  and  formid- 
able beaks,  in  which  case  all  would  have  been  soon 
over  ;  either  they  were  afraid,  or  they  had  satisfied 
their  curiosity — at  any  rate,  they  let  us  alone  ;  but 
they  kept  with  us  till  we  were  well  away  from  the 

58 


/ 


Father  and  Son 


capital.  Strange,  how  completely  this  incident  had 
escaped  me." 

I  return  to  my  father's  thoughts  as  he  made  his 
way  back  to  his  old  camp. 

As  for  the  reversed  position  of  Professor  Panky's 
clothes,  he  remembered  having  given  his  own  old 
ones  to  the  Queen,  and  having  thought  that  she 
might  have  got  a  better  dummy  on  which  to  display 
them  than  the  headless  scarecrow,  which,  however, 
he  supposed  was  all  her  ladies-in-waiting  could  lay 
their  hands  on  at  the  moment.  If  that  dummy  had 
never  been  replaced,  it  was  perhaps  not  very  strange 
that  the  King  could  not  at  the  first  glance  tell  back 
from  front,  and  if  he  did  not  guess  right  at  first, 
there  was  little  chance  of  his  changing,  for  his  first 
ideas  were  apt  to  be  his  last.  But  he  must  find  out 
more  about  this. 

Then  how  about  the  watch  ?  Had  their  views 
about  machinery  also  changed  ?  Or  was  there  an 
exception  made  about  any  machine  that  he  had 
himself  carried  ? 

Yram  too.  She  must  have  been  married  not 
long  after  she  and  he  had  parted.  So  she  was  now 
wife  to  the  Mayor,  and  was  evidently  able  to  have 
things  pretty  much  her  own  way  in  Sunch'ston,  as 
he  supposed  he  must  now  call  it.  Thank  heaven 
she  was  prosperous  !  It  was  interesting  to  know 
that  she  was  at  heart  a  sceptic,  as  was  also  her  light- 
haired  son,  now  Head  Ranger.  And  that  son  ? 
Just  twenty  years  of  age  !  Born  seven  months 
after  marriage  !     Then   the    Mayor   doubtless   had 

59 


Erewhon  Revisited 

light  hair  too  ;  but  why  did  not  those  wretches  say 
in  which  month  Yram  was  married  ?  If  she  had 
married  soon  after  he  had  left,  this  was  why  he  had 
not  been  sent  for  or  written  to.  Pray  heaven  it 
was  so.  As  for  current  gossip,  people  would  talk, 
and  if  the  lad  was  well  begotten,  what  could  it 
matter  to  them  whose  son  he  was  ?  "  But,"  thought 
my  father,  "  I  am  glad  I  did  not  meet  him  on  my 
way  down.  I  had  rather  have  been  killed  by  some 
one  else." 

Hanky  and  Panky  again.  He  remembered 
Bridgeford  as  the  town  where  the^  Colleges  of 
Unreason  had  been  most  rife  ;  he  had  visited  it, 
but  he  had  forgotten  that  it  was  called  "The  city 
of  the  people  who  are  above  suspicion."  Its  Pro- 
fessors were  evidently  going  to  muster  in  great 
force  on  Sunday  ;  if  two  of  them  had  robbed  him, 
he  could  forgive  them,  for  the  information  he  had 
gleaned  from  them  had  furnished  him  with  2,  pied  a 
terre.  Moreover,  he  had  got  as  much  Erewhonian 
money  as  he  should  want,  for  he  had  resolved  to 
retrace  his  steps  immediately  after  seeing  the  temple 
dedicated  to  himself.  He  knew  the  danger  he 
should  run  in  returning  over  the  preserves  without 
a  permit,  but  his  curiosity  was  so  great  that  he  re- 
solved to  risk  it. 

Soon  after  he  had  passed  the  statues  he  began  to 
descend,  and  it  being  now  broad  day,  he  did  so  by 
leaps  and  bounds,  for  the  ground  was  not  preci- 
pitous.    He  reached  his  old  camp  soon  after  five — 

this,  at  any  rate,  was  the  hour  at  which  he  set  his 

60 


Father  and  Son 


watch  on  finding  that  it  had  run  down  during  his 
absence.  There  was  now  no  reason  why  he  should 
not  take  it  with  him,  so  he  put  it  in  his  pocket. 
The  parrots  had  attacked  his  saddle-bags,  saddle, 
and  bridle,  as  they  were  sure  to  do,  but  they  had 
not  got  inside  the  bags.  He  took  out  his  English 
clothes  and  put  them  on — stowing  his  bags  of 
gold  in  various  pockets,  but  keeping  his  Erewhonian 
money  in  the  one  that  was  most  accessible.  He 
put  his  Erewhonian  dress  back  into  the  saddle- 
bags, intending  to  keep  it  as  a  curiosity  ;  he  also 
refreshed  the  dye  upon  his  hands,  face,  and  hair ; 
he  lit  himself  a  fire,  made  tea,  cooked  and  ate  two 
brace  of  quails,  which  he  had  plucked  while  walk- 
ing so  as  to  save  time,  and  then  flung  himself  on  to 
the  ground  to  snatch  an  hour's  very  necessary  rest. 
When  he  woke  he  found  he  had  slept  two  hours, 
not  one,  which  was  perhaps  as  well,  and  by  eight 
he  began  to  reascend  the  pass. 

He  reached  the  statues  about  noon,  for  he 
allowed  himself  not  a  moment's  rest.  This  time 
there  was  a  stiffish  wind,  and  they  were  chanting 
lustily.  He  passed  them  with  all  speed,  and  had 
nearly  reached  the  place  where  he  had  caught  the 
quails,  when  he  saw  a  man  in  a  dress  which  he 
guessed  at  once  to  be  a  ranger's,  but  which, 
strangely  enough,  seeing  that  he  was  in  the  King's 
employ,  was  not  reversed.  My  father's  heart  beat 
fast ;  he  got  out  his  permit  and  held  it  open  in  his 
hand,  then  with  a  smiling  face  he  went  towards  the 

Ranger,  who  was  standing  his  ground. 

6i 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  I  believe  you  are  the  Head  Ranger/'  said  my 
father,  who  saw  that  he  was  still  smooth-faced  and 
had  light  hair.  "  I  am  Professor  Panky,  and  here  is 
my  permit.  My  brother  Professor  has  been  prevented 
from  coming  with  me,  and,  as  you  see,  I  am  alone." 

My  father  had  professed  to  pass  himself  off  as 
Panky,  for  he  had  rather  gathered  that  Hanky  was 
the  better  known  man  of  the  two. 

While  the  youth  was  scrutinising  the  permit, 
evidently  with  suspicion,  my  father  took  stock  of 
him,  and  saw  his  own  past  self  in  him  too  plainly — 
knowing  all  he  knew — to  doubt  whose  son  he  was. 
He  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  hiding  his  emotion, 
for  the  lad  was  indeed  one  of  whom  any  father 
might  be  proud.  He  longed  to  be  able  to  embrace 
him  and  claim  him  for  what  he  was,  but  this,  as  he 
well  knew,  might  not  be.  The  tears  again  welled 
into  his  eyes  when  he  told  me  of  the  struggle  with 
himself  that  he  had  then  had. 

"  Don't  be  jealous,  my  dearest  boy,"  he  said  to 
me.  "  I  love  you  quite  as  dearly  as  I  love  him,  or 
better,  but  he  was  sprung  upon  me  so  suddenly, 
and  dazzled  me  with  his  comely  debonair  face,  so 
full  of  youth,  and  health,  and  frankness.  Did  you 
see  him,  he  would  go  straight  to  your  heart,  for  he 
is  wonderfully  like  you  in  spite  of  your  taking  so 
much  after  your  poor  mother." 

I  was  not  jealous  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  longed  to 

see  this  youth,  and  find  in  him  such  a  brother  as  I 

had  often  wished  to  have.     But  let  me  return  to  my 

father's  story. 

62 


Father  and  Son 


The  young  man,  after  examining  the  permit, 
declared  it  to  be  in  form,  and  returned  it  to  my 
father,  but  he  eyed  him  with  pohte  disfavour. 

"I  suppose,"  he  said,  "you  have  come  up,  as  so 
many  are  doing,  from  Bridgeford  and  all  over  the 
country,  to  the  dedication  on  Sunday." 

"Yes,"  said  my  father.  "Bless  me  \"  he  added, 
"what  a  wind  you  have  up  here  !  How  it  makes 
one's  eyes  water,  to  be  sure  ; "  but  he  spoke  with 
a  cluck  in  his  throat  which  no  wind  that  blows 
can  cause. 

"  Have  you  met  any  suspicious  characters  be- 
tween here  and  the  statues  ?  "  asked  the  youth.  "  I 
came  across  the  ashes  of  a  fire  lower  down  ;  there 
had  been  three  men  sitting  for  some  time  round  it, 
and  they  had  all  been  eating  quails.  Here  are  some 
of  the  bones  and  feathers,  which  I  shall  keep.  They 
had  not  been  gone  more  than  a  couple  of  hours, 
for  the  ashes  were  still  warm ;  they  are  getting 
bolder  and  bolder — who  would  have  thought  they 
would  dare  to  light  a  fire  ?  I  suppose  you  have 
not  met  any  one  ;  but  if  you  have  seen  a  single 
person,  let  me  know." 

My  father  said  quite  truly  that  he  had  met  no 
one.  He  then  laughingly  asked  how  the  youth  had 
been  able  to  discover  as  much  as  he  had. 

"  There  were  three  well-marked  forms,  and  three 
separate  lots  of  quail  bones  hidden  in  the  ashes. 
One  man  had  done  all  the  plucking.  This  is 
strange,  but  I  dare  say  I  shall  get  at  it  later." 

After  a  little  further  conversation  the  Ranger  said 
63 


Erewhon  Revisited 

he  was  now  going  down  to  Sunch'ston,  and,  though 
somewhat  curtly,  proposed  that  he  and  my  father 
should  walk  together. 

"  By  all  means,"  answered  my  father. 

Before  they  had  gone  more  than  a  few  hundred 
yards  his  companion  said,  "  If  you  will  come  with 
me  a  little  to  the  left,  I  can  show  you  the  Blue  Pool." 

To  avoid  the  precipitous  ground  over  which  the 
stream  here  fell,  they  had  diverged  to  the  right, 
where  they  had  found  a  smoother  descent ;  return- 
ing now  to  the  stream,  which  was  about  to  enter  on 
a  level  stretch  for  some  distance,  they  found  them- 
selves on  the  brink  of  a  rocky  basin,  of  no  great 
size,  but  very  blue,  and  evidently  deep. 

"This,"  said  the  Ranger,  "is  where  our  orders 
tell  us  to  fling  any  foreign  devil  who  comes  over 
from  the  other  side,  I  have  only  been  Head 
Ranger  about  nine  months,  and  have  not  yet  had 
to  face  this  horrid  duty ;  but,"  and  here  he  smiled, 
"when  I  first  caught  sight  of  you  I  thought  I 
should  have  to  make  a  beginning.  I  was  very  glad 
when  I  saw  you  had  a  permit." 

"And  how  many  skeletons  do  you  suppose  are 
lying  at  the  bottom  of  this  pool  ?" 

"  I  believe  not  more  than  seven  or  eight  in  all. 

There  were   three   or   four   about   eighteen   years 

ago,  and   about   the   same  number  of  late  years ; 

one  man  was  flung  here  only  about  three  months 

before  I  was  appointed.     I  have  the  full  list,  with 

dates,  down  in  my  office,   but  the  rangers  never 

let  people  in    Sunch'ston   know  when   they   have 

64 


Father  and  Son 


Blue-Pooled  any  one ;  it  would  unsettle  men's 
minds,  and  some  of  them  would  be  coming  up 
here  in  the  dark  to  drag  the  pool,  and  see  whether 
they  could  find  anything  on  the  body." 

My  father  was  glad  to  turn  away  from  this  most 
repulsive  place.  After  a  time  he  said,  "  And  what 
do  you  good  people  hereabouts  think  of  next 
Sunday's  grand  doings  ?  " 

Bearing  in  mind  what  he  had  gleaned  from  the 
Professors  about  the  Ranger's  opinions,  my  father 
gave  a  slightly  ironical  turn  to  his  pronunciation 
of  the  words  "grand  doings."  The  youth  glanced 
at  him  with  a  quick  penetrative  look,  and  laughed 
as  he  said,  "  The  doings  will  be  grand  enough." 

"What  a  fine  temple  they  have  built,"  said  my 
father.  "  I  have  not  yet  seen  the  picture,  but  they 
say  the  four  black  and  white  horses  are  magnifi- 
cently painted.  I  saw  the  Sunchild  ascend,  but 
I  saw  no  horses  in  the  sky,  nor  anything  like 
horses." 

The  youth  was  much  interested.  "  Did  you 
really  see  him  ascend?"  he  asked;  "and  what, 
pray,  do  you  think  it  all  was  ?  " 

"Whatever  it  was,  there  were  no  horses." 

"  But  there  must  have  been,  for,  as  you  of  course 
know,  they  have  lately  found  some  droppings  from 
one  of  them,  which  have  been  miraculously  pre- 
served, and  they  are  going  to  show  them  next 
Sunday  in  a  gold  reliquary." 

"  I  know,"  said  my  father,  who,  however,  was 
learning  the  fact  for  the  first  time.    "  I  have  not  yet 

65  E 


Erewhon   Revisited 

seen  this  precious  relic,  but  I  think  they  might  have 
found  something  less  unpleasant." 

"  Perhaps  they  would  if  they  could/'  replied  the 
youth,  laughing,  "  but  there  was  nothing  else  that 
the  horses  could  leave.  It  is  only  a  number  of 
curiously  rounded  stones,  and  not  at  all  like  what 
they  say  it  is." 

"Well,  well,"  continued  my  father,  "but  relic 
or  no  relic,  there  are  many  who,  while  they  fully 
recognise  the  value  of  the  Sunchild's  teaching, 
dislike  these  cock  and  bull  stories  as  blasphemy 
against  God's  most  blessed  gift  of  reason.  There 
are  many  in  Bridgeford  who  hate  this  story  of  the 
horses." 

The  youth  was  now  quite  reassured.  "  So  there 
are  here,  sir,"  he  said  warmly,  "  and  who  hate  the 
Sunchild  too.  If  there  is  such  a  hell  as  he  used 
to  talk  about  to  my  mother,  we  doubt  not  but  that 
he  will  be  cast  into  its  deepest  fires.  See  how  he 
has  turned  us  all  upside  down.  But  we  dare  not 
say  what  we  think.  There  is  no  courage  left  in 
Erewhon." 

Then  waxing  calmer  he  said,  "  It  is  you  Bridge- 
ford  people  and  your  Musical  Banks  that  have 
done  it  all.  The  Musical  Bank  Managers  saw  that 
the  people  were  faUing  away  from  them.  Finding 
that  the  vulgar  believed  this  foreign  devil  Higgs — 
for  he  gave  this  name  to  my  mother  when  he  was  in 

prison — finding  that But  you  know  all  this  as 

well  as  I  do.    How  can  you  Bridgeford  Professors 

pretend  to  believe  about  these  horses,  and  about 

66 


Father  and  Son 


the  Sunchild's  being  son  to  the  sun,  when  all  the 
time  you  know  there  is  no  truth  in  it  ?  " 

"  My  son — for  considering  the  difference  in  our 
ages  I  may  be  allowed  to  call  you  so — we  at  Bridge- 
ford  are  much  like  you  at  Sunch'ston  ;  we  dare  not 
always  say  what  we  think.  Nor  would  it  be  wise 
to  do  so,  when  we  should  not  be  listened  to.  This 
fire  must  burn  itself  out,  for  it  has  got  such  hold 
that  nothing  can  either  stay  or  turn  it.  Even 
though  Higgs  himself  were  to  return  and  tell  it 
from  the  house-tops  that  he  was  a  mortal — ay, 
and  a  very  common  one — he  would  be  killed,  but 
not  beheved." 

"  Let  him  come  ;  let  him  show  himself,  speak 
out  and  die,  if  the  people  choose  to  kill  him.  In 
that  case  I  would  forgive  him,  accept  him  for  my 
father,  as  silly  people  sometimes  say  he  is,  and 
honour  him  to  my  dying  day." 

"  Would  that  be  a  bargain  ? "  said  my  father, 
smiling  in  spite  of  emotion  so  strong  that  he  could 
hardly  bring  the  words  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Yes,  it  would,"  said  the  youth  doggedly. 

"Then  let  me  shake  hands  with  you  on  his  be- 
half, and  let  us  change  the  conversation." 

He  took  my  father's  hand,  doubtfully  and  some- 
what disdainfully,  but  he  did  not  refuse  it. 


67 


CHAPTER   VI 

FURTHER  CONVERSATION  BETWEEN   FATHER 
AND   SON — THE   PROFESSORS'   HOARD 

It  is  one  thing  to  desire  a  conversation  to  be 
changed,  and  another  to  change  it.  After  some 
Httle  silence  my  father  said,  "  And  may  I  ask  what 
name  your  mother  gave  you  ?  " 

"  My  name,"  he  answered,  laughing,  "  is  George, 
and  I  wish  it  were  some  other,  for  it  is  the  first 
name  of  that  arch-impostor  Higgs.  I  hate  it  as  I 
hate  the  man  who  owned  it." 

My  father  said  nothing,  but  he  hid  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  other,  "  I  fear  you  are  in  some 
distress." 

"You  remind  me,"  replied  my  father,  "of  a  son 
who  was  stolen  from  me  when  he  was  a  child.  I 
searched  for  him  during  many  years,  and  at  last 
fell  in  with  him  by  accident,  to  find  him  all  the 
heart  of  father  could  wish.  But  alas  !  he  did  not 
take  kindly  to  me  as  I  to  him,  and  after  two  days 
he  left  me  ;  nor  shall  I  ever  again  see  him." 

''Then,  sir,  had  I  not  better  leave  you  ?" 

"  No,  stay  with  me  till  your  road  takes  you  else- 
where ;  for  though  I  cannot  see  my  son,  you  are  so 

like  him  that  I  could  almost  fancy  he  is  with  me. 

68 


Father  and  Son  Part 

And  now — for  I  shall  show  no  more  weakness — 
you  say  your  mother  knew  the  Sunchild,  as  I  am 
used  to  call  him.  Tell  me  what  kind  of  a  man  she 
found  him." 

"  She  liked  him  well  enough  in  spite  of  his  being 
a  little  silly.  She  does  not  believe  he  ever  called 
himself  child  of  the  sun.  He  used  to  say  he  had 
a  father  in  heaven  to  whom  he  prayed,  and  who 
could  hear  him  ;  but  he  said  that  all  of  us,  my 
mother  as  much  as  he,  have  this  unseen  father. 
My  mother  does  not  believe  he  meant  doing  us 
any  harm,  but  only  that  he  wanted  to  get  himself 
and  Mrs.  Nosnibor's  younger  daughter  out  of  the 
country.  As  for  there  having  been  anything  super- 
natural about  the  balloon,  she  will  have  none  of  it ; 
she  says  that  it  was  some  machine  which  he  knew 
how  to  make,  but  which  we  have  lost  the  art  of 
making,  as  we  have  of  many  another. 

"This  is  what  she  says  amongst  ourselves,  but 
in  public  she  confirms  all  that  the  Musical  Bank 
Managers  say  about  him.  She  is  afraid  of  them. 
You  know,  perhaps,  that  Professor  Hanky,  whose 
name  I  see  on  your  permit,  tried  to  burn  her  alive?" 

"Thank  heaven  !"  thought  my  father,  "that  I  am 
Panky ;"  but  aloud  he  said,  "Oh,  horrible  !  horrible  ! 
I  cannot  believe  this  even  of  Hanky." 

"  He  denies  it,  and  we  say  we  believe  him  ;  he  was 

most  kind  and  attentive  to  my  mother  during  all 

the  rest  of  her  stay  in  Bridgeford.      He  and  she 

parted  excellent   friends,    but    I    know   what    she 

thinks.     I   shall  be   sure  to  see   him  while   he  is 

69 


Erewhon   Revisited 

in  Sunch'ston,  I  shall  have  to  be  civil  to  him  but 
it  makes  me  sick  to  think  of  it." 

"  When  shall  you  see  him  ?  "  said  my  father,  who 
was  alarmed  at  learning  that  Hanky  and  the  Ranger 
were  likely  to  meet.  Who  could  tell  but  that  he 
might  see  Panky  too  ? 

"  I  have  been  away  from  home  a  fortnight,  and 
shall  not  be  back  till  late  on  Saturday  night.  I  do 
not  suppose  I  shall  see  him  before  Sunday." 

"That  will  do,"  thought  my  father,  who  at  that 
moment  deemed  that  nothing  would  matter  to  him 
much  when  Sunday  was  over.  Then,  turning  to  the 
Ranger,  he  said,  "  I  gather,  then,  that  your  mother 
does  not  think  so  badly  of  the  Sunchild  after  all  ?  " 

"  She  laughs  at  him  sometimes,  but  if  any  of  us 
boys  and  girls  say  a  word  against  him  we  get 
snapped  up  directly.  My  mother  turns  every  one 
round  her  finger.  Her  word  is  law  in  Sunch'ston  ; 
every  one  obeys  her ;  she  has  faced  more  than  one 
mob,  and  quelled  them  when  my  father  could  not 
do  so." 

"  I  can  believe  all  you  say  of  her.  What  other 
children  has  she  besides  yourself  ?  " 

"  We  are  four  sons,  of  whom  the  youngest  is  now 
fourteen,  and  three  daughters." 

"  May  all  health  and  happiness  attend  her  and 
you,  and  all  of  you,  henceforth  and  for  ever,"  and 
my  father  involuntarily  bared  his  head  as  he  spoke. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  youth,  impressed  by  the  fervency 

of  my  father's  manner,  "  I  thank  you,  but  you  do 

not  talk  as  Bridgeford  Professors  generally  do,  so 

70 


Father  and  Son   Part 

far  as  I  have  seen  or  heard  them.  Why  do  you 
wish  us  all  well  so  very  heartily  ?  Is  it  because 
you  think  I  am  like  your  son,  or  is  there  some 
other  reason  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  my  son  alone  that  you  resemble,"  said 
my  father  tremulously,  for  he  knew  he  was  going 
too  far.  He  carried  it  off  by  adding,  "  You  re- 
semble all  who  love  truth  and  hate  lies,  as  I  do." 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  the  youth  gravely,  "  you  much 
belie  your  reputation.  And  now  I  must  leave  you 
for  another  part  of  the  preserves,  where  I  think  it 
likely  that  last  night's  poachers  may  now  be,  and 
where  I  shall  pass  the  night  in  watching  for  them. 
You  may  want  your  permit  for  a  few  miles  further, 
so  I  will  not  take  it.  Neither  need  you  give  it  up 
at  Sunch'ston.  It  is  dated,  and  will  be  useless 
after  this  evening." 

With  this  he  strode  off  into  the  forest,  bowing 
politely  but  somewhat  coldly,  and  without  encour- 
aging my  father's  half  proffered  hand. 

My  father  turned  sad  and  unsatisfied  away. 

"It  serves  me  right,"  he  said  to  himself;  "he 
ought  never  to  have  been  my  son  ;  and  yet,  if  such 
men  can  be  brought  by  hook  or  by  crook  into  the 
world,  surely  the  world  should  not  ask  questions 
about  the  bringing.  How  cheerless  everything 
looks  now  that  he  has  left  me." 


By  this  time  it  was  three  o'clock,  and  in  another 
few  minutes  my  father  came  upon  the  ashes  of  the 

71 


Erewhon   Revisited 

fire  beside  which  he  and  the  Professors  had  supped 
on  the  preceding  evening.  It  was  only  some 
eighteen  hours  since  they  had  come  upon  him,  and 
yet  what  an  age  it  seemed  !  It  was  well  the  Ranger 
had  left  him,  for  though  my  father,  of  course, 
would  have  known  nothing  about  either  fire  or 
poachers,  it  might  have  led  to  further  falsehood, 
and  by  this  time  he  had  become  exhausted — not  to 
say,  for  the  time  being,  sick  of  lies  altogether. 

He  trudged  slowly  on,  without  meeting  a  soul, 
until  he  came  upon  some  stones  that  evidently 
marked  the  limits  of  the  preserves.  When  he  had 
got  a  mile  or  so  beyond  these,  he  struck  a  narrow 
and  not  much  frequented  path,  which  he  was  sure 
would  lead  him  towards  Sunch'ston,  and  soon  after- 
wards, seeing  a  huge  old  chestnut  tree  some  thirty 
or  forty  yards  from  the  path  itself,  he  made  towards 
it  and  flung  himself  on  the  ground  beneath  its 
branches.  There  were  abundant  signs  that  he  was 
nearing  farm  lands  and  homesteads,  but  there  was 
no  one  about,  and  if  any  one  saw  him  there  was 
nothing  in  his  appearance  to  arouse  suspicion. 

He  determined,  therefore,  to  rest  here  till  hunger 
should  wake  him,  and  drive  him  into  Sunch'ston, 
which,  however,  he  did  not  wish  to  reach  till  dusk 
if  he  could  help  it.  He  meant  to  buy  a  valise  and 
a  few  toilette  necessaries  before  the  shops  should 
close,  and  then  engage  a  bedroom  at  the  least  fre- 
quented inn  he  could  find  that  looked  fairly  clean 
and  comfortable. 

He  slept  till  nearly  six,  and  on  waking  gathered 
1» 


The  Professors'  Hoard 

his  thoughts  together.  He  could  not  shake  his 
newly  found  son  from  out  of  them,  but  there  was 
no  good  in  dwelling  upon  him  now,  and  he  turned 
his  thoughts  to  the  Professors.  How,  he  wondered, 
were  they  getting  on,  and  what  had  they  done  with 
the  things  they  had  bought  from  him  ? 

"  How  delightful  it  would  be,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  if  I  could  find  where  they  have  hidden  their  hoard, 
and  hide  it  somewhere  else." 

He  tried  io  project  his  mind  into  those  of  the 
Professors,  as  though  they  were  a  team  of  straying 
bullocks  whose  probable  action  he  must  determine 
before  he  set  out  to  look  for  them. 

On  reflection,  he  concluded  that  the  hidden 
property  was  not  likely  to  be  far  from  the  spot  on 
which  he  now  was.  The  Professors  would  wait 
till  they  had  got  some  way  down  towards  Sunch'- 
ston,  so  as  to  have  readier  access  to  their  property 
when  they  wanted  to  remove  it ;  but  when  they 
came  upon  a  path  and  other  signs  that  inhabited 
dwellings  could  not  be  far  distant,  they  would 
begin  to  look  out  for  a  hiding-place.  And  they 
would  take  pretty  well  the  first  that  came.  "  Why, 
bless  my  heart,"  he  exclaimed,  "  this  tree  is  hollow ; 

I    wonder    whether "    and    on    looking   up   he 

saw  an  innocent  little  strip  of  the  very  tough 
fibrous  leaf  commonly  used  while  green  as  string, 
or  even  rope,  by  the  Erewhonians.  The  plant 
that  makes  this  leaf  is  so  like  the  ubiquitous  New 
Zealand  Phorviium  tenax,  or  flax,  as  it  is  there 
called,  that  I  shall  speak  of  it  as  flax  in  future,  as 

73 


Erewhon   Revisited 

indeed  I  have  already  done  without  explanation 
on  an  earlier  page  ;  for  this  plant  grows  on  both 
sides  of  the  great  range.  The  piece  of  flax,  then, 
which  my  father  caught  sight  of  was  fastened,  at 
no  great  height  from  the  ground,  round  the  branch 
of  a  strong  sucker  that  had  grown  from  the  roots 
of  the  chestnut  tree,  and  going  thence  for  a  couple 
of  feet  or  so  towards  the  place  where  the  parent 
tree  became  hollow,  it  disappeared  into  the  cavity 
below.  My  father  had  little  difficulty  in  swarming 
the  sucker  till  he  reached  the  bough  on  to  which 
the  flax  was  tied,  and  soon  found  himself  hauling 
up  something  from  the  bottom  of  the  tree.  In  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  tell  the  tale  he  saw  his  own 
familiar  red  blanket  begin  to  show  above  the 
broken  edge  of  the  hollow,  and  in  another  second 
there  was  a  clinkum-clankum  as  the  bundle  fell 
upon  the  ground.  This  was  caused  by  the  billy 
and  the  pannikin,  which  were  wrapped  inside  the 
blanket.  As  for  the  blanket,  it  had  been  tied 
tightly  at  both  ends,  as  w^ell  as  at  several  points 
between,  and  my  father  inwardly  complimented 
the  Professors  on  the  neatness  with  which  they  had 
packed  and  hidden  their  purchase.  ''  But,"  he 
said  to  himself  with  a  laugh,  "  I  think  one  of  them 
must  have  got  on  the  other's  back  to  reach  that 
bough." 

"  Of  course,"  thought  he,  "  they  will  have  taken 
the  nuggets  with  them."  And  yet  he  had  seemed 
to  hear  a  dumping  as  well  as  a  clinkum-clankum. 
He  undid  the  blanket,  carefully  untying  every  knot 

74 


The  Professors'  Hoard 

and  keeping  the  flax.  When  he  had  unrolled  it,  he 
found  to  his  very  pleasurable  surprise  that  the 
pannikin  was  inside  the  billy,  and  the  nuggets  with 
the  receipt  inside  the  pannikin.  The  paper  con- 
taining the  tea  having  been  torn,  was  wrapped  up 
in  a  handkerchief  marked  with  Hanky's  name. 

"  Down,  conscience,  down  !  "  he  exclaimed  as  he 
transferred  the  nuggets,  receipt,  and  handkerchief 
to  his  own  pocket.  "  Eye  of  my  soul  that  you  are  ! 
if  you  offend  me  I  must  pluck  you  out."  His  con- 
science feared  him  and  said  nothing.  As  for  the 
tea,  he  left  it  in  its  torn  paper. 

He  then  put  the  billy,  pannikin,  and  tea,  back 
again  inside  the  blanket,  which  he  tied  neatly  up, 
tie  for  tie  with  the  Professor's  own  flax,  leaving  no 
sign  of  any  disturbance.  He  again  swarmed  the 
sucker,  till  he  reached  the  bough  to  which  the 
blanket  and  its  contents  had  been  made  fast,  and 
having  attached  the  bundle,  he  dropped  it  back 
into  the  hollow  of  the  tree.  He  did  everything 
quite  leisurely,  for  the  Professors  would  be  sure 
to  wait  till  nightfall  before  coming  to  fetch  their 
property  away. 

"  If  I  take  nothing  but  the  nuggets,"  he  argued, 
"each  of  the  Professors  will  suspect  the  other  of 
having  conjured  them  into  his  own  pocket  while 
the  bundle  was  being  made  up.  As  for  the  hand- 
kerchief, they  must  think  what  they  like ;  but  it 
will  puzzle  Hanky  to  know  why  Panky  should  have 
been  so  anxious  for  a  receipt,  if  he  meant  stealing 
the  nuggets.  Let  them  muddle  it  out  their  own  way." 

75 


Erewhon   Revisited 

Reflecting  further,  he  concluded,  perhaps  rightly, 
that  they  had  left  the  nuggets  where  he  had  found 
them,  because  neither  could  trust  the  other  not  to 
filch  a  few,  if  he  had  them  in  his  own  possession, 
and  they  could  not  make  a  nice  division  without 
a  pair  of  scales.  "At  any  rate,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"there  will  be  a  pretty  quarrel  when  they  find 
them  gone." 

Thus  charitably  did  he  brood  over  things  that 
were  not  to  happen.  The  discovery  of  the  Pro- 
fessors' hoard  had  refreshed  him  almost  as  much 
as  his  sleep  had  done,  and  it  being  now  past  seven, 
he  lit  his  pipe — which,  however,  he  smoked  as 
furtively  as  he  had  done  when  he  was  a  boy  at 
school,  for  he  knew  not  whether  smoking  had  yet 
become  an  Erewhonian  virtue  or  no — and  walked 
briskly  on  towards  Sunch'ston. 


76 


CHAPTER  VII 

SIGNS   OF  THE   NEW   ORDER   OF  THINGS   CATCH 
MY   father's   eye   ON   EVERY   SIDE 

He  had  not  gone  far  before  a  turn  in  the  path — 
now  rapidly  widening — showed  him  two  high 
towers,  seemingly  some  two  miles  off ;  these  he  felt 
sure  must  be  at  Sunch'ston,  he  therefore  stepped 
out,  lest  he  should  find  the  shops  shut  before  he 
got  there. 

On  his  former  visit  he  had  seen  little  of  the 
town,  for  he  was  in  prison  during  his  whole  stay. 
He  had  had  a  glimpse  of  it  on  being  brought  there 
by  the  people  of  the  village  where  he  had  spent 
his  first  night  in  Erewhon — a  village  which  he  had 
seen  at  some  little  distance  on  his  right  hand,  but 
which  it  would  have  been  out  of  his  way  to  visit, 
even  if  he  had  wished  to  do  so  ;  and  he  had  seen 
the  Museum  of  old  machines,  but  on  leaving  the 
prison  he  had  been  blindfolded.  Nevertheless  he 
felt  sure  that  if  the  towers  had  been  there  he  should 
have  seen  them,  and  rightly  guessed  that  they  must 
belong  to  the  temple  which  was  to  be  dedicated  to 
himself  on  Sunday. 

When  he  had  passed  through  the  suburbs  he 
found  himself  in  the  main  street.  Space  will  not 
allow  me  to  dwell  on  more  than  a  few  of  the  things 

77 


Erewhon  Revisited 

which  caught  his  eye,  and  assured  him  that  the 
change  in  Erewhonian  habits  and  opinions  had 
been  even  more  cataclysmic  than  he  had  already 
divined.  The  first  important  building  that  he  came 
to  proclaimed  itself  as  the  College  of  Spiritual 
Athletics,  and  in  the  window  of  a  shop  that  was 
evidently  affiliated  to  the  college  he  saw  an  an- 
nouncement that  moral  try-your-strengths,  suitable 
for  every  kind  of  ordinary  temptation,  would  be 
provided  on  the  shortest  notice.  Some  of  those 
that  aimed  at  the  more  common  kinds  of  tempta- 
tion were  kept  in  stock,  but  these  consisted  chiefly 
of  trials  to  the  temper.  On  dropping,  for  example, 
a  penny  into  a  slot,  you  could  have  a  jet  of  fine 
pepper,  flour,  or  brickdust,  whichever  you  might 
prefer,  thrown  on  to  your  face,  and  thus  discover 
whether  your  composure  stood  in  need  of  further 
development  or  no.  My  father  gathered  this  from 
the  writing  that  was  pasted  on  to  the  try-your- 
strength,  but  he  had  no  time  to  go  inside  the  shop 
and  test  either  the  machine  or  his  own  temper. 
Other  temptations  to  irritability  required  the  agency 
of  living  people,  or  at  any  rate  living  beings. 
Crying  children,  screaming  parrots,  a  spiteful 
monkey,  might  be  hired  on  ridiculously  easy  terms. 
He  saw  one  advertisement,  nicely  framed,  which 
ran  as  follows : — 

"  Mrs.  Tantrums,  Nagger,  certificated  by  the  College  of 
Spiritual  Athletics.  Terms  for  ordinary  nagging,  two 
shillings  and  sixpence  per  hour.     Hysterics  extra." 

78 


The  New  Order 

Then  followed  a  series  of  testimonials — for 
example  : — 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Tantrums, — I  have  for  years  been  tortured 
with  a  husband  of  unusually  peevish,  irritable  temper, 
who  made  my  life  so  intolerable  that  I  sometimes  answered 
him  in  a  way  that  led  to  his  using  personal  violence 
towards  me.  After  taking  a  course  of  twelve  sittings  from 
you,  I  found  my  husband's  temper  comparatively  angelic, 
and  we  have  ever  since  lived  together  in  complete 
harmony." 

Another  was  from  a  husband : — 

«  Mr.  presents  his  compliments  to  Mrs.  Tantrums, 

and  begs  to  assure  her  that  her  extra  special  hysterics 
have  so  far  surpassed  anything  his  wife  can  do,  as  to 
render  him  callous  to  those  attacks  which  he  had  formerly 
found  so  distressing." 

There  were  many  others  of  a  like  purport,  but 
time  did  not  permit  my  father  to  do  more  than 
glance  at  them.  He  contented  himself  with  the 
two  following,  of  which  the  first  ran  : — 

"  He  did  try  it  at  last.  A  little  correction  of  the  right 
kind  taken  at  the  right  moment  is  invaluable.  No  more 
swearing.  No  more  bad  language  of  any  kind.  A  lamb- 
like temper  ensured  in  about  twenty  minutes,  by  a  single 
dose  of  one  of  our  spiritual  indigestion  tabloids.  In  cases 
of  all  the  more  ordinary  moral  ailments,  from  simple  lying, 
to  homicidal  mania,  in  cases  again  of  tendency  to  hatred, 
malice,  and  uncharitableness ;  of  atrophy  or  hypertrophy 
of  the  conscience,  of  costiveness  or  diarrhoea  of  the  sym- 
pathetic instincts,  &c.,  &c.,  our  spiritual  indigestion  tabloids 
will  afford  unfailing  and  immediate  relief. 

79 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"JV.B.—A  bottle  or  two  of  our  Sunchild  Cordial  will 
assist  the  operation  of  the  tabloids." 

The  second  and  last  that  I  can  give  was  as 
follows  : — 

"  All  else  is  useless.  If  you  wish  to  be  a  social  success, 
make  yourself  a  good  listener.  There  is  no  short  cut  to 
this.  A  would-be  listener  must  learn  the  rudiments  of  his 
art  and  go  through  the  mill  like  other  people.  If  he  would 
develop  a  power  of  suffering  fools  gladly,  he  must  begin  by 
suffering  them  without  the  gladness.  Professor  Proser, 
ex-straightener,  certificated  bore,  pragmatic  or  coruscating, 
with  or  without  anecdotes,  attends  pupils  at  their  own 
houses.     Terms  moderate. 

"  Mrs.  Proser,  whose  success  as  a  professional  mind- 
dresser  is  so  well-known  that  lengthened  advertisement  is 
unnecessary,  prepares  ladies  or  gentlemen  with  appropriate 
remarks  to  be  made  at  dinner-parties  or  at-homes.  Mrs.  P. 
keeps  herself  well  up  to  date  with  all  the  latest  scandals." 

"  Poor,  poor,  straighteners  ! "  said  my  father  to 
himself.  "  Alas  !  that  it  should  have  been  my  fate 
to  ruin  you — for  I  suppose  your  occupation  is 
gone." 

Tearing  himself  away  from  the  College  of  Spiritual 

Athletics  and  its  affiliated  shop,  he  passed  on  a  few 

doors,  only  to  find  himself  looking  in  at  what  was 

neither  more  nor  less  than  a  chemist's  shop.     In 

the  window  there  were  advertisements  which  showed 

that  the  practice  of  medicine  was  now  legal,  but  my 

father  could  not  stay  to  copy  a  single  one  of  the 

fantastic    announcements    that    a    hurried    glance 

revealed  to  him. 

80 


The  New  Order 

It  was  also  plain  here,  as  from  the  shop  already 
more  fully  described,  that  the  edicts  against  machines 
had  been  repealed,  for  there  were  physical  try-your- 
strengths,  as  in  the  other  shop  there  had  been  moral 
ones,  and  such  machines  under  the  old  law  would 
not  have  been  tolerated  for  a  moment. 

My  father  made  his  purchases  just  as  the  last 
shops  were  closing.  He  noticed  that  almost  all  of 
them  were  full  of  articles  labelled  "  Dedication." 
There  was  Dedication  gingerbread,  stamped  with 
a  moulded  representation  of  the  new  temple  ;  there 
were  Dedication  syrups.  Dedication  pocket-handker- 
chiefs, also  shewing  the  temple,  and  in  one  corner 
giving  a  highly  idealised  portrait  of  my  father  him- 
self. The  chariot  and  the  horses  figured  largely, 
and  in  the  confectioners'  shops  there  were  models 
of  the  newly  discovered  relic — made,  so  my  father 
thought,  with  a  little  heap  of  cherries  or  straw- 
berries, smothered  in  chocolate.  Outside  one 
tailor's  shop  he  saw  a  flaring  advertisement  which 
can  only  be  translated,  "  Try  our  Dedication  trou- 
sers, price  ten  shillings  and  sixpence." 

Presently  he  passed  the  new  temple,  but  it  was 

too  dark  for  him  to  do  more  than  see  that  it  was  a 

vast  fane,  and  must  have  cost  an  untold  amount  of 

money.     At  every  turn  he  found  himself  more  and 

more  shocked,  as  he  realised  more  and  more  fully 

the  mischief  he  had  already  occasioned,  and  the 

certainty  that  this  was  small  as  compared  with  that 

which  would  grow  up  hereafter. 

*'What,"    he   said   to   me,    very   coherently  and 
8i  F 


Erewhon   Revisited 

quietly,  "  was  I    to  do  ?     I   had  struck  a   bargain 

with  that  dear  fellow,  though  he  knew  not  what 

I  meant,  to  the  effect  that   I  should  try  to  undo 

the  harm  I  had  done,  by  standing  up  before  the 

people  on  Sunday  and  saying  who  I  was.    True, 

they   would    not   believe   me.      They   would   look 

at   my  hair   and  see  it   black,   whereas   it   should 

be  very  light.     On  this  they  would  look  no  further, 

but  very  likely  tear  me  in  pieces  then  and  there. 

Suppose   that   the   authorities   held   a  post-mortem 

examination,   and   that  many   who   knew   me   (let 

alone  that  all  my  measurements  and  marks  were 

recorded   twenty   years   ago)   identified   the    body 

as    mine  :    would    those   in    power    admit    that    I 

was    the    Sunchild  ?       Not    they.      The    interests 

vested    in   my   being   now   in    the    palace   of    the 

sun   are   too  great   to  allow   of   my   having   been 

torn    to    pieces    in    Sunch'ston,    no    matter    how 

truly    I  had  been   torn  ;    the   whole  thing   would 

be  hushed  up,  and  the   utmost  that   could  come 

of  it  would  be  a  heresy  which  would  in  time  be 

crushed. 

"  On   the    other    hand,   what    business    have    I 

with    '  would    be  '    or    '  would   not   be  ? '      Should 

I   not  speak  out,  come  what  may,  when   I   see  a 

whole  people  being  led  astray  by  those  who  are 

merely    exploiting    them     for    their     own    ends  ? 

Though   I  could  do  but  little,  ought   I   not  to  do 

that  little  ?     What  did  that  good  fellow's  instinct 

— so  straight  from  heaven,  so   true,  so  healthy — 

tell   him  ?     What   did   my   own   instinct   answer  ? 

82 


The  New  Order 

What   would    the   conscience   of   any  honourable 
man  answer  ?     Who  can  doubt  ? 

"And  yet,  is  there  not  reason?  and  is  it  not 
God-given  as  much  as  instinct  ?  I  remember 
having  heard  an  anthem  in  my  young  days,  *0 
where  shall  wisdom  be  found  ?  the  deep  saith  it 
is  not  in  me.'  As  the  singers  kept  on  repeating 
the  question,  I  kept  on  saying  sorrowfully  to  my- 
self— *  Ah,  where,  where,  where  ? '  and  when  the 
triumphant  answer  came,  'The  fear  of  the  Lord, 
that  is  wisdom,  and  to  depart  from  evil  is  under- 
standing,' I  shrunk  ashamed  into  myself  for  not 
having  foreseen  it.  In  later  life,  when  I  have 
tried  to  use  this  answer  as  a  light  by  which  I 
could  walk,  I  found  it  served  but  to  the  raising 
of  another  question,  '  What  is  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  and  what  is  evil  in  this  particular  case  ? ' 
And  my  easy  method  with  spiritual  dilemmas 
proved  to  be  but  a  case  of  ignotum  per  ignotius. 

"  If  Satan  himself  is  at  times  transformed  into 
an  angel  of  light,  are  not  angels  of  light  sometimes 
transformed  into  the  likeness  of  Satan  ?  If  the 
devil  is  not  so  black  as  he  is  painted,  is  God 
always  so  white  ?  And  is  there  not  another  place 
in  which  it  is  said,  'The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the 
beginning  of  wisdom,'  as  though  it  were  not  the 
last  word  upon  the  subject  ?  If  a  man  should 
not  do  evil  that  good  may  come,  so  neither  should 
he  do  good  that  evil  may  come  ;  and  though  it 
were  good  for  me  to  speak  out,  should  I  not  do 
better  by  refraining  ? 

83 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  Such  were  the  lawless  and  uncertain  thoughts 
that  tortured  me  very  cruelly,  so  that  I  did  what 
I  had  not  done  for  many  a  long  year — I  prayed 
for  guidance.  'Shew  me  Thy  will,  O  Loiu,  I 
cried  in  great  distress,  'and  strengthen  me  to  do 
it  when  Thou  hast  shewn  it  me.'  But  there  was 
no  answer.  Instinct  tore  me  one  way  and  reason 
another.  Whereon  I  settled  that  I  would  obey 
the  reason  with  which  God  had  endowed  me, 
unless  the  instinct  He  had  also  given  me  should 
thrash  it  out  of  me.  I  could  get  no  further  than 
this,  that  the  Lord  hath  mercy  on  whom  He  will 
have  mercy,  and  whom  He  willeth  He  hardeneth  ; 
and  again  I  prayed  that  I  might  be  among  those 
on  whom  He  would  shew  His  mercy. 

"This  was  the  strongest  internal  conflict  that  I 
ever  remember  to  have  felt,  and  it  was  at  the  end 
of  it  that  I  perceived  the  first,  but  as  yet  very  faint, 
symptoms  of  that  sickness  from  which  I  shall  not 
recover.  Whether  this  be  a  token  of  mercy  or  no, 
my  Father  which  is  in  heaven  knows,  but  I  know 
not." 

From  what  my  father  afterwards  told  me,  I  do 
not  think  the  above  reflections  had  engrossed  him 
for  more  than  three  or  four  minutes  ;  the  giddiness 
which  had  for  some  seconds  compelled  him  to  lay 
hold  of  the  first  thing  he  could  catch  at  in  order  to 
avoid  falling,  passed  away  without  leaving  a  trace 
behind  it,  and  his  path  seemed  to  become  comfort- 
ably clear  before  him.  He  settled  it  that  the  proper 
thing  to  do  would  be  to  buy  some  food,  start  back 

84 


The  New  Order 

at  once  while  his  permit  was  still  valid,  help  himself 
to  the  property  which  he  had  sold  the  Professors, 
leaving  the  Erewhonians  to  wrestle  as  they  best 
might  with  the  lot  that  it  had  pleased  Heaven  to  send 
them. 

This,  however,  was  too  heroic  a  course.  He  was 
tired,  and  wanted  a  night's  rest  in  a  bed  ;  he  was 
hungry,  and  wanted  a  substantial  meal ;  he  was 
curious,  moreover,  to  see  the  temple  dedicated  to 
himself,  and  hear  Hanky's  sermon  ;  there  was  also 
this  further  difficulty,  he  should  have  to  take  what 
he  had  sold  the  Professors  without  returning  them 
their  £^y  los.,  for  he  could  not  do  without  his 
blanket,  &c. ;  and  even  if  he  left  a  bag  of  nuggets 
made  fast  to  the  sucker,  he  must  either  place  it 
where  it  could  be  seen  so  easily  that  it  would  very 
likely  get  stolen,  or  hide  it  so  cleverly  that  the  Pro- 
fessors would  never  find  it.  He  therefore  com- 
promised by  concluding  that  he  would  sup  and 
sleep  in  Sunch'ston,  get  through  the  morrow  as  he 
best  could  without  attracting  attention,  deepen  the 
stain  on  his  face  and  hair,  and  rely  on  the  change 
so  made  in  his  appearance  to  prevent  his  being  re- 
cognised at  the  dedication  of  the  temple.  He  would 
do  nothing  to  disillusion  the  people — to  do  this 
would  only  be  making  bad  worse.  As  soon  as  the 
service  was  over,  he  would  set  out  towards  the 
preserves,  and,  when  it  was  well  dark,  make  for 
the  statues.  He  hoped  that  on  such  a  great  day 
the  rangers  might  be  many  of  them  in  Sunch'ston  ; 
if  there  were  any  about,  he  must  trust  the  moonless 

S5 


Erewhon  Revisited 

night  and  his  own  quick  eyes  and  ears  to  get  him 
through  the  preserves  safely. 

The  shops  were  by  this  time  closed,  but  the 
keepers  of  a  few  stalls  were  trying  by  lamplight 
to  sell  the  wares  they  had  not  yet  got  rid  of.  One 
of  these  was  a  bookstall,  and,  running  his  eye  over 
some  of  the  volumes,  my  father  saw  one  entitled — 

"The  Sayings  of  the  Sunchild  during  his  stay  in 
Erewhon,  to  which  is  added  a  true  account  of 
his  return  to  the  palace  of  the  sun  with  his 
Erewhonian  bride.  This  is  the  only  version  autho- 
rised by  the  Presidents  and  Vice-Presidents  of  the 
Musical  Banks ;  all  other  versions  being  imperfect 
and  inaccurate. — Bridgeford,  XVIII. ,  150  pp.  8vo. 
Price  3s. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  I  am  giving  the 
prices  as  nearly  as  I  can  in  their  English  equiva- 
lents.    Another  title  was — 

"The  Sacrament  of  Divorce:  an  Occasional  Sermon 
preached  by  Dr.  Gurgoyle,  President  of  the  Musical 
Banks  for  the  Province  of  Sunch'ston.  8vo,  16  pp. 
6d. 

Other  titles  ran — 

"Counsels  of  Imperfection."     8vo,  20  pp.     6d. 

"  Hygiene ;  or,  How  to  Diagnose  your  Doctor.  8vo, 
10  pp.     3d. 

"The  Physics  of  Vicarious  Existence,"  by  Dr.  Gur- 
goyle, President  of  the  Musical  Banks  for  the  Pro- 
vince of  Sunch'ston.     8vo,  20  pp.     6d. 

There  were  many  other  books  whose  titles  would 
probably  have  attracted  my  father  as  much  as  those 

86 


The  New  Order 

that  I  have  given,  but  he  was  too  tired  and  hungry 
to  look  at  more.  Finding  that  he  could  buy  all  the 
foregoing  for  4s.  gd.,  he  bought  them  and  stuffed 
them  into  the  valise  that  he  had  just  bought.  His 
purchases  in  all  had  now  amounted  to  a  little  over 
£1,  los.  (silver),  leaving  him  about  £2  (silver),  in- 
cluding the  money  for  which  he  had  sold  the  quails, 
to  carry  him  on  till  Sunday  afternoon.  He  intended 
to  spend  say  £2  (silver),  and  keep  the  rest  of  the 
money  in  order  to  give  it  to  the  British  Museum. 

He  now  began  to  search  for  an  inn,  and  walked 
about  the  less  fashionable  parts  of  the  town  till  he 
found  an  unpretending  tavern,  which  he  thought 
would  suit  him.  Here,  on  importunity,  he  was 
given  a  servant's  room  at  the  top  of  the  house,  all 
others  being  engaged  by  visitors  who  had  come  for 
the  dedication.  He  ordered  a  meal,  of  which  he 
stood  in  great  need,  and  having  eaten  it,  he  retired 
early  for  the  night.  But  he  smoked  a  pipe  surrepti- 
tiously up  the  chimney  before  he  got  into  bed. 

Meanwhile  other  things  were  happening,  of  which, 
happily  for  his  repose,  he  was  still  ignorant,  and 
which  he  did  not  learn  till  a  few  days  later.  Not 
to  depart  from  chronological  order  I  will  deal  with 
them  in  my  next  chapter. 


87 


CHAPTER   VIII 

VRAM,  NOW  MAYORESS,  GIVES  A  DINNER-PARTY,  IN  THE 
COURSE  OF  ^VHICH  SHE  IS  DISQUIETED  BY  WHAT  SHE 
LEARNS  FROM  PROFESSOR  HANKY  :  SHE  SENDS  FOR 
HER   SON    GEORGE   AND    QUESTIONS    HIM 

The  Professors,  returning  to  their  hotel  early  on 
the  Friday  morning,  found  a  note  from  the 
Mayoress  urging  them  to  be  her  guests  during 
the  remainder  of  their  visit,  and  to  meet  other 
friends  at  dinner  on  this  same  evening.  They 
accepted,  and  then  went  to  bed ;  for  they  had 
passed  the  night  under  the  tree  in  which  they 
had  hidden  their  purchase,  and,  as  may  be 
imagined,  had  slept  but  httle.  They  rested  all 
day,  and  transferred  themselves  and  their  belong- 
ings to  the  Mayor's  house  in  time  to  dress  for 
dinner. 

When  they  came  down  into  the  drawing-room 
they  found  a  brilliant  company  assembled,  chiefly 
Musical-Bankical  like  themselves.  There  was  Dr. 
Downie,  Professor  of  Logomachy,  and  perhaps 
the  most  subtle  dialectician  in  Erewhon.  He 
could  say  nothing  in  more  words  than  any  man 
of  his  generation.  His  text-book  on  the  "Art  of 
Obscuring  Issues "  had  passed  through  ten  or 
twelve    editions,    and    was    in    the    hands    of    all 

aspirants  for  academic  distinction.    He  had  earned 

88 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 


a  high    reputation  for   sobriety  of   judgement   by 

resolutely  refusing  to  have  definite  views  on  any 

subject ;  so  safe  a    man   was   he  considered,  that 

while  still  quite  young  he  had  been  appointed  to 

the  lucrative  post  of  Thinker  in  Ordinary  to  the 

Royal   Family.     There   was   Mr.  Principal   Crank, 

with  his  sister  Mrs.  Quack ;  Professors  Gabb  and 

Bawl,  with  their  wives  and  two  or  three  erudite 

daughters. 

Old  Mrs.  Humdrum  (of  whom  more  anon)  was 

there  of  course,  with  her  venerable  white  hair  and 

rich   black  satin  dress,  looking  the  very  ideal  of 

all   that  a  stately  old   dowager  ought   to   be.     In 

society  she  was  commonly  known  as   Ydgrun,  so 

perfectly  did  she  correspond  with  the  conception 

of  this  strange  goddess  formed  by  the  Erewhonians. 

She  was  one  of  those  who  had  visited  my  father 

when  he  was  in  prison  twenty  years  earlier.    When 

he  told  me  that  she  was  now  called  Ydgrun,  he 

said,  "  I  am  sure  that  the  Erinyes  were  only  Mrs. 

Humdrums,  and  that  they  were  delightful  people 

when  you  came  to  know  them.     I  do  not  believe 

they  did  the  awful  things  we  say  they  did.     I  think, 

but  am  not  quite  sure,  that  they  let  Orestes  off ;  but 

even  though  they  had  not  pardoned  him,  I  doubt 

whether   they   would    have    done    anything    more 

dreadful  to  him  than  issue  a  mot  dordre  that  he 

was  not  to  be  asked  to  any  more  afternoon  teas. 

This,   however,   would    be   down-right   torture   to 

some   people.     At   any   rate,"  he   continued,   "  be 

it  the  Erinyes,  or  Mrs.  Grundy,  or  Ydgrun,  in  all 

89 


Erewhon   Revisited 


times  and  p  aces  it  is  woman  who  decides  whether 
society  is  to  condone  an  offence  or  no." 

Among  the  most  attractive  ladies  present  was 
one  for  whose  Erewhonian  name  I  can  find  no 
EngHsh  equivalent,  and  whom  I  must  therefore 
call  Miss  La  Prime.  She  was  Lady  President  of 
the  principal  establishment  for  the  higher  educa- 
tion of  young  ladies,  and  so  celebrated  was  she,  that 
pupils  flocked  to  her  from  all  parts  of  the  sur- 
rounding country.  Her  primer  (written  for  the 
Erewhonian  Arts  and  Science  Series)  on  the  Art 
of  Man-killing,  was  the  most  complete  thing  of 
the  kind  that  had  yet  been  done  ;  but  ill-natured 
people  had  been  heard  to  say  that  she  had  killed 
all  her  own  admirers  so  effectually  that  not  one 
of  them  had  ever  lived  to  marry  her.  According 
to  Erewhonian  custom  the  successful  marriages  of 
the  pupils  are  inscribed  yearly  on  the  oak  panel- 
ing of  the  college  refectory,  and  a  reprint  from 
these  in  pamphlet  form  accompanies  all  the  pro- 
spectuses that  are  sent  out  to  parents.  It  was 
alleged  that  no  other  ladies'  seminary  in  Erewhon 
could  show  such  a  brilliant  record  during  all  the 
years  of  Miss  La  Frime's  presidency.  Many  other 
guests  of  less  note  were  there,  but  the  lions  of  the 
evening  were  the  two  Professors  whom  we  have 
already  met  with,  and  more  particularly  Hanky, 
who  took  the  Mayoress  in  to  dinner.  Panky,  of 
course,  wore  his  clothes  reversed,  as  did  Principal 
Crank  and  Professor  Gabb  ;  the  others  were  dressed 

English  fashion. 

90 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 

Everything  hung  upon  the  hostess,  for  the  host 
was  Httle  more  than  a  still  handsome  figure-head. 
He  had  been  remarkable  for  his  good  looks  as  a 
young  man,  and  Strong  is  the  nearest  approach  I 
can  get  to  a  translation  of  his  Erewhonian  name. 
His  face  inspired  confidence  at  once,  but  he  was 
a  man  of  few  words,  and  had  little  of  that  grace 
which  in  his  wife  set  every  one  instantly  at  his  or  her 
ease.  He  knew  that  all  would  go  well  so  long  as  he 
left  everything  to  her,  and  kept  himself  as  far  as 
might  be  in  the  background. 

Before  dinner  was  announced  there  was  the  usual 
buzz  of  conversation,  chiefly  occupied  with  saluta- 
tions, good  wishes  for  Sunday's  weather,  and  ad- 
miration for  the  extreme  beauty  of  the  Mayoress's 
three  daughters,  the  two  elder  of  whom  were  already 
out ;  while  the  third,  though  only  thirteen,  might 
have  passed  for  a  year  or  two  older.  Their  mother 
was  so  much  engrossed  with  receiving  her  guests 
that  it  was  not  till  they  were  all  at  table  that  she 
was  able  to  ask  Hanky  what  he  thought  of  the 
statues,  which  she  had  heard  that  he  and  Professor 
Panky  had  been  to  see.  She  was  told  how  much 
interested  he  had  been  with  them,  and  how  unable 
he  had  been  to  form  any  theory  as  to  their  date  or 
object.  He  then  added,  appealing  to  Panky,  who 
was  on  the  Mayoress's  left  hand,  "but  we  had 
rather  a  strange  adventure  on  our  way  down,  had 
we  not,  Panky  ?  We  got  lost,  and  were  benighted 
in  the  forest.     Happily  we  fell  in  with  one  of  the 

rangers  who  had  lit  a  fire." 

91 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  Do  I  understand,  then,"  said  Yram,  as  I  suppose 
we  may  as  well  call  her,  "  that  you  were  out  all  last 
night  ?  How  tired  -you  must  be  !  But  I  hope  you 
had  enough  provisions  with  you  ?  " 

"  Indeed  we  were  out  all  night.  We  staid  by  the 
ranger's  fire  till  midnight,  and  then  tried  to  find  our 
way  down,  but  we  gave  it  up  soon  after  we  had  got 
out  of  the  forest,  and  then  waited  under  a  large 
chestnut  tree  till  four  or  five  this  morning.  As  for 
food,  we  had  not  so  much  as  a  mouthful  from 
about  three  in  the  afternoon  till  we  got  to  our  inn 
early  this  morning." 

"Oh,  you  poor,  poor  people!  how  tired  you 
must  be." 

"  No  ;  we  made  a  good  breakfast  as  soon  as  we 
got  in,  and  then  went  to  bed,  where  we  staid  till  it 
was  time  for  us  to  come  to  your  house." 

Here  Panky  gave  his  friend  a  significant  look,  as 
much  as  to  say  that  he  had  said  enough. 

This  set  Hanky  on  at  once.  "  Strange  to  say,  the 
ranger  was  wearing  the  old  Erewhonian  dress.  It 
did  me  good  to  see  it  again  after  all  these  years.  It 
seems  your  son  lets  his  men  wear  what  few  of  the 
old  clothes  they  may  still  have,  so  long  as  they  keep 
well  away  from  the  town.  But  fancy  how  carefully 
these  poor  fellows  husband  them  ;  why,  it  must  be 
seventeen  years  since  the  dress  was  forbidden  ! " 

We  all  of  us  have  skeletons,  large  or  small,  in 

some  cupboard  of  our  lives,  but  a  well  regulated 

skeleton  that  will  stay  in  its  cupboard  quietly  does 

not  much  matter.     There  are  skeletons,  however, 

92 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 

which  can  never  be  quite  trusted  not  to  open  the 
cupboard  door  at  some  awkward  moment,  go  down 
stairs,  ring  the  hall-door  bell,  with  grinning  face 
announce  themselves  as  the  skeleton,  and  ask 
whether  the  master  or  mistress  is  at  home.  This 
kind  of  skeleton,  though  no  bigger  than  a  rabbit, 
will  sometimes  loom  large  as  that  of  a  dinotherium. 
My  father  vv^as  Yram's  skeleton.  True,  he  was  a 
mere  skeleton  of  a  skeleton,  for  the  chances  were 
thousands  to  one  that  he  and  my  mother  had 
perished  long  years  ago  ;  and  even  though  he  rang 
at  the  bell,  there  was  no  harm  that  he  either  could 
or  would  now  do  to  her  or  hers ;  still,  so  long  as 
she  did  not  certainly  know  that  he  was  dead,  or 
otherwise  precluded  from  returning,  she  could  not 
be  sure  that  he  would  not  one  day  come  back  by 
the  way  that  he  would  alone  know,  and  she  had 
rather  he  should  not  do  so. 

Hence,  on  hearing  from  Professor  Hanky  that 
a  man  had  been  seen  between  the  statues  and 
Sunch'ston  wearing  the  old  Erewhonian  dress,  she 
was  disquieted  and  perplexed.  The  excuse  he  had 
evidently  made  to  the  Professors  aggravated  her 
uneasiness,  for  it  was  an  obvious  attempt  to  escape 
from  an  unexpected  difficulty.  There  could  be  no 
truth  in  it.  Her  son  would  as  soon  think  of  wear- 
ing the  old  dress  himself  as  of  letting  his  men  do  so  ; 
and  as  for  having  old  clothes  still  to  wear  out  after 
seventeen  years,  no  one  but  a  Bridgeford  Professor 
would  accept  this.  She  saw,  therefore,  that  she 
must  keep  her  wits  about  her,  and  lead  her  guests 

93 


Erewhon   Revisited 

on  to  tell  her  as  much  as  they  could  be  induced 
to  do. 

"  My  son,"  she  said  innocently,  "  is  always  con- 
siderate to  his  men,  and  that  is  why  they  are  so 
devoted  to  him.  I  wonder  which  of  them  it  was  ? 
In  what  part  of  the  preserves  did  you  fall  in  with 
him?" 

Hanky  described  the  place,  and  gave  the  best 
idea  he  could  of  my  father's  appearance. 

"  Of  course  he  was  swarthy  like  the  rest  of 
us  ?" 

"  I  saw  nothing  remarkable  about  him,  except 
that  his  eyes  were  blue  and  his  eyelashes  nearly 
white,  which,  as  you  know,  is  rare  in  Erewhon. 
Indeed,  I  do  not  remember  ever  before  to  have 
seen  a  man  with  dark  hair  and  complexion  but 
light  eyelashes.  Nature  is  always  doing  something 
unusual." 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Yram,  "that  he  was  the 
man  they  call  Blacksheep,  but  I  never  noticed  this 
peculiarity  in  him.  If  he  was  Blacksheep,  I  am 
afraid  you  must  have  found  him  none  too  civil ;  he 
is  a  rough  diamond,  and  you  would  hardly  be  able 
to  understand  his  uncouth  Sunch'ston  dialect." 

"On  the  contrary,  he  was  most  kind  and 
thoughtful — even  so  far  as  to  take  our  permit 
from  us,  and  thus  save  us  the  trouble  of  giving 
it  up  at  your  son's  office.  As  for  his  dialect,  his 
grammar  was  often  at  fault,  but  we  could  quite 
understand  him." 

"  I  am   glad    to    hear   he   behaved   better   than 

94 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 

I  could  have  expected.  Did  he  say  in  what  part 
of  the  preserves  he  had  been  ?  " 

"  He  had  been  catching  quails  between  the  place 
where  we  saw  him  and  the  statues ;  he  was  to 
deliver  three  dozen  to  your  son  this  afternoon  for 
the  Mayor's  banquet  on  Sunday." 

This  was  worse  and  worse.  She  had  urged  her 
son  to  provide  her  with  a  supply  of  quails  for 
Sunday's  banquet,  but  he  had  begged  her  not  to 
insist  on  having  them.  There  was  no  close  time 
for  them  in  Erewhon,  but  he  set  his  face  against 
their  being  seen  at  table  in  spring  and  summer. 
During  the  winter,  when  any  great  occasion  arose, 
he  had  allowed  a  few  brace  to  be  provided. 

"  I  asked  my  son  to  let  me  have  some,"  said 
Yram,  who  was  now  on  full  scent.  She  laughed 
genially  as  she  added,  "  Can  you  throw  any  light 
upon  the  question  whether  I  am  likely  to  get  my 
three  dozen  ?     I  have  had  no  news  as  yet." 

"The  man  had  taken  a  good  many;  we  saw 
them  but  did  not  count  them.  He  started  about 
midnight  for  the  ranger's  shelter,  where  he  said 
he  should  sleep  till  daybreak,  so  as  to  make  up  his 
full  tale  betimes." 

Yram  had  heard  her  son  complain  that  there 
were  no  shelters  on  the  preserves,  and  state  his 
intention  of  having  some  built  before  the  winter. 
Here  too,  then,  the  man's  story  must  be  false. 
She  changed  the  conversation  for  the  moment,  but 
quietly  told  a  servant  to  send  high  and  low  in 
search  of  her  son,  and  if  he  could  be  found,  to 

95 


Erewhon   Revisited 


bid  him  come  to  her  at  once.     She  then  returned 
to  her  previous  subject. 

"And  did  not  this  heartless  wretch,  knowing 
how  hungry  you  must  both  be,  let  you  have  a 
quail  or  two  as  an  act  of  pardonable  charity  ?  " 

"My  dear  Mayoress,  how  can  you  ask  such  a 
question?  We  knew  you  would  want  all  you 
could  get;  moreover,  our  permit  threatened  us 
with  all  sorts  of  horrors  if  we  so  much  as  ate  a 
single  quail.  I  assure  you  we  never  even  allowed 
a  thought  of  eating  one  of  them  to  cross  our 
minds." 

"Then,"  said  Yram  to  herself,  "they  gorged 
upon  them."  What  could  she  think  ?  A  man  who 
wore  the  old  dress,  and  therefore  who  had  almost 
certainly  been  in  Erewhon,  but  had  been  many 
years  away  from  it ;  who  spoke  the  language  well, 
but  whose  grammar  was  defective — hence,  again, 
one  who  had  spent  some  time  in  Erewhon  ;  who 
knew  nothing  of  the  afforesting  law  now  long 
since  enacted,  for  how  else  would  he  have  dared 
to  light  a  fire  and  be  seen  with  quails  in  his 
possession  ;  an  adroit  liar,  who  on  gleaning  infor- 
mation from  the  Professors  had  hazarded  an  ex- 
cuse for  immediately  retracing  his  steps  ;  a  man, 
too,  with  blue  eyes  and  light  eyelashes.  What  did 
it  matter  about  his  hair  being  dark  and  his  com- 
plexion swarthy — Higgs  was  far  too  clever  to 
attempt  a  second  visit  to  Erewhon  without  dyeing 
his  hair  and  staining  his  face  and  hands.     And  he 

had  got  their  permit  out  of  the  Professors  before 

96 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 

he  left  them  ;  clearly,  then,  he  meant  coming  back, 
and  coming  back  at  once  before  the  permit  had 
expired.  How  could  she  doubt  ?  My  father,  she 
felt  sure,  must  by  this  time  be  in  Sunch'ston.  He 
would  go  back  to  change  his  clothes,  which  would 
not  be  very  far  down  on  the  other  side  the  pass, 
for  he  would  not  put  on  his  old  Erewhonian  dress 
till  he  was  on  the  point  of  entering  Erewhon  ;  and 
he  would  hide  his  English  dress  rather  than  throw 
it  away,  for  he  would  want  it  when  he  went  back 
again.  It  would  be  quite  possible,  then,  for  him 
to  get  through  the  forest  before  the  permit  was 
void,  and  he  would  be  sure  to  go  on  to  Sunch'ston 
for  the  night. 

She  chatted  unconcernedly,  now  with  one  guest 
now  with  another,  while  they  in  their  turn  chatted 
unconcernedly  with  one  another. 

Miss  La  Prime  to  Mrs.  Humdrum  :  "You  know 

how  he  got  his  professorship  ?     No  ?     I  thought 

every  one  knew  that.     The  question  the  candidates 

had  to  answer  was,  whether  it  was  wiser  during  a 

long  stay  at  a  hotel  to  tip  the  servants  pretty  early, 

or  to  wait  till  the  stay  was  ended.    All  the  other 

candidates  took  one  side  or  the  other,  and  argued 

their  case    in  full.     Hanky  sent  in  three  lines  to 

the  effect  that  the  proper  thing  to  do  would  be  to 

promise  at  the   beginning,   and  go  away  without 

giving.     The    King,  with  whom   the  appointment 

rested,  was  so  much  pleased  with  this  answer  that 

he  gave  Hanky  the  professorship  without  so  much 

as  looking  .  .  ." 

97  G 


Erewhon  Revisited 

Professor  Gabb  to  Mrs.  Humdrum:  "Oh  no,  I 
can  assure  you  there  is  no  truth  in  it.  What 
happened  was  this.  There  was  the  usual  crowd, 
and  the  people  cheered  Professor  after  Professor, 
as  he  stood  before  them  in  the  great  Bridgeford 
theatre  and  satisfied  them  that  a  lump  of  butter 
which  had  been  put  into  his  mouth  would  not  melt 
in  it.  When  Hanky's  turn  came  he  was  taken 
suddenly  unwell,  and  had  to  leave  the  theatre,  on 
which  there  was  a  report  in  the  house  that  the 
butter  had  melted  ;  this  was  at  once  stopped  by 
the  return  of  the  Professor.  Another  piece  of  butter 
was  put  into  his  mouth,  and  on  being  taken  out 
after  the  usual  time,  was  found  to  shew  no  signs 
of  having  .  .  ." 

Miss  Bawl  to  Mr.  Principal  Crank  :  .  .  .  "  The 
Manager  was  so  tall,  you  know,  and  then  there 
was  that  little  mite  of  an  assistant  manager — it  zvas 
so  funny.  For  the  assistant  manager's  voice  was 
ever  so  much  louder  than  the  .  .  ." 

Mrs.  Bawl  to  Professor  Gabb  :  .  .  .  "  Live  for 
art !  If  I  had  to  choose  whether  I  would  lose  either 
art  or  science,  I  have  not  the  smallest  hesitation  in 
saying  that  I  would  lose  .  .  ." 

The  Mayor  and  Dr.  Downie  :  .  .  .  "That  you 
are  to  be  canonised  at  the  close  of  the  year  along 
with  Professors  Hanky  and  Panky  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  is  his  Majesty's  intention  that  the 
Professors  and  myself  are  to  head  the  list  of  the 
Sunchild's  Saints,  but  we  have  all  of  us  got  to  .  .  ." 

And  so  on,  and  so  on,  buzz,  buzz,  buzz,  over  the 

98 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 

whole  table.  Presently  Yram  turned  to  Hanky 
and  said — 

"  By  the  way,  Professor,  you  must  have  found 
it  very  cold  up  at  the  statues,  did  you  not  ?  But 
I  suppose  the  snow  is  all  gone  by  this  time  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  was  cold,  and  though  the  winter's  snow 
is  melted,  there  had  been  a  recent  fall.  Strange  to 
say,  we  saw  fresh  footprints  in  it,  as  of  some  one 
who  had  come  up  from  the  other  side.  But  thereon 
hangs  a  tale,  about  which  I  believe  I  should  say 
nothing." 

"Then  say  nothing,  my  dear  Professor,"  said 
Yram  with  a  frank  smile.  "  Above  all,"  she  added 
quietly  and  gravely,  "  say  nothing  to  the  Mayor, 
nor  to  my  son,  till  after  Sunday.  Even  a  whisper 
of  some  one  coming  over  from  the  other  side  dis- 
quiets them,  and  they  have  enough  on  hand  for 
the  moment." 

Panky,  who  had  been  growing  more  and  more 
restive  at  his  friend's  outspokenness,  but  who  had 
encouraged  it  more  than  once  by  vainly  trying  to 
check  it,  was  relieved  at  hearing  his  hostess  do  for 
him  what  he  could  not  do  for  himself.  As  for 
Yram,  she  had  got  enough  out  of  the  Professor 
to  be  now  fully  dissatisfied,  and  mentally  informed 
them  that  they  might  leave  the  witness-box.  During 
the  rest  of  dinner  she  let  the  subject  of  their  adven- 
ture severely  alone. 

It  seemed  to  her  as  though  dinner  was  never 
going  to  end ;  but  in  the  course  of  time  it  did  so, 
and  presently  the  ladies  withdrew.     As  they  were 

99 


Erewhon   Revisited 


entering  the  drawing-room  a  servant  told  her  that 
her  son  had  been  found  more  easily  than  was  ex- 
pected, and  was  now  in  his  own  room  dressing. 

"  Tell  him,"  she  said,  "  to  stay  there  till  I  come, 
which  I  will  do  directly." 

She  remained  for  a  few  minutes  with  her  guests, 
and  then,  excusing  herself  quietly  to  Mrs.  Hum- 
drum, she  stepped  out  and  hastened  to  her  son's 
room.  She  told  him  that  Professors  Hanky  and 
Panky  were  staying  in  the  house,  and  that  during 
dinner  they  had  told  her  something  he  ought  to 
know,  but  which  there  was  no  time  to  tell  him  until 
her  guests  were  gone.  "  I  had  rather,"  she  said, 
"tell  you  about  it  before  you  see  the  Professors, 
for  if  you  see  them  the  whole  thing  wall  be  re- 
opened, and  you  are  sure  to  let  them  see  how 
much  more  there  is  in  it  than  they  suspect.  I 
want  everything  hushed  up  for  the  moment ;  do 
not,  therefore,  join  us.  Have  dinner  sent  to  you 
in  your  father's  study.  I  will  come  to  you  about 
midnight." 

"  But,  my  dear  mother,"  said  George,  "  I  have 
seen  Panky  already.  I  walked  down  with  him  a 
good  long  way  this  afternoon." 

Yram  had  not  expected  this,  but  she  kept  her 
countenance.  "  How  did  you  know,"  said  she, 
"  that  he  was  Professor  Panky  ?  Did  he  tell 
you  so  ?  " 

"  Certainly  he  did.  He  showed  me  his  permit, 
which  was  made  out  in  favour  of  Professors  Hanky 
and   Panky,  or  either   of   them.     He   said    Hanky 


Yram  Guesses  the  Truth 

had  been  unable  to  come  with  him,  and  that  he 
was  himself  Professor  Panky." 

Yram  again  smiled  very  sweetly.  "Then,  my 
dear  boy,"  she  said,  "  I  am  all  the  more  anxious 
that  you  should  not  see  him  now.  See  nobody 
but  the  servants  and  your  brothers,  and  wait  till 
I  can  enlighten  you.  I  must  not  stay  another 
moment ;  but  tell  me  this  much,  have  you  seen 
any  signs  of  poachers  lately?" 

"  Yes  ;  there  were  three  last  night." 

"  In  what  part  of  the  preserves  ?  " 

Her  son  described  the  place. 

"You  are  sure  they  had  been  killing  quails  ?" 

"Yes,  and  eating  them — two  on  one  side  of  a 
fire  they  had  lit,  and  one  on  the  other  ;  this  last 
man  had  done  all  the  plucking." 

"Good!" 

She  kissed  him  with  more  than  even  her  usual 
tenderness,  and  returned  to  the  drawing-room. 

During  the  rest  of  the  evening  she  was  engaged 
in  earnest  conversation  with  Mrs.  Humdrum, 
leaving  her  other  guests  to  her  daughters  and  to 
themselves.  Mrs.  Humdrum  had  been  her  closest 
friend  for  many  years,  and  carried  more  weight 
than  any  one  else  in  Sunch'ston,  except,  perhaps, 
Yram  herself.  "Tell  him  everything,"  she  said  to 
Yram  at  the  close  of  their  conversation ;  we  all 
dote  upon  him  ;  trust  him  frankly,  as  you  trusted 
your  husband  before  you  let  him  marry  you.  No 
lies,  no  reserve,  no  tears,  and  all  will  come  right. 
As  for  me,  command  me,"  and  the  good  old  lady 

lOI 


Erewhon   Revisited  , 

rose  to  take  her  leave  with  as  kind  a  look  on  her 
face  as  ever  irradiated  saint  or  angel.  "  I  go  early," 
she  added,  "  for  the  others  will  go  when  they  see 
me  do  so,  and  the  sooner  you  are  alone  the 
better." 

By  half  an  hour  before  midnight  her  guests  had 
gone.  Hanky  and  Panky  were  given  to  understand 
that  they  must  still  be  tired,  and  had  better  go  to 
bed.  So  was  the  Mayor ;  so  were  her  sons  and 
daughters,  except  of  course  George,  who  was  wait- 
ing for  her  with  some  anxiety,  for  he  had  seen  that 
she  had  something  serious  to  tell  him.  Then  she 
went  down  into  the  study.  Her  son  embraced  her 
as  she  entered,  and  moved  an  easy  chair  for  her, 
but  she  would  not  have  it. 

"  No  ;  I  will  have  an  upright  one."  Then,  sit- 
ting composedly  down  on  the  one  her  son  placed 
for  her,  she  said — 

"  And  now  to  business.  But  let  me  first  tell  you 
that  the  Mayor  was  told,  twenty  years  ago,  all  the 
more  important  part  of  what  you  will  now  hear. 
He  does  not  yet  know  what  has  happened  within 
the  last  few  hours,  but  either  you  or  I  will  tell  him 
to-morrow." 


102 


CHAPTER   IX 

INTERVIEW   BETWEEN   VRAM   AND   HER   SON 

"What  did  you  think  of  Panky  ?" 

"  I  could  not  make  him  out.  If  he  had  not  been 
a  Bridgeford  Professor  I  might  have  liked  him  ; 
but  you  know  how  we  all  of  us  distrust  those 
people." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him  ?  " 

"About  two  hours  lower  down  than  the  statues." 

"  At  what  o'clock  ?  " 

"  It  might  be  between  two  and  half-past." 

"  I  suppose  he  did  not  say  that  at  that  hour  he 
was  in  bed  at  his  hotel  in  Sunch'ston.  Hardly  ! 
Tell  me  what  passed  between  you." 

"  He  had  his  permit  open  before  we  were  within 
speaking  distance.  I  think  he  feared  I  should 
attack  him  without  making  sure  whether  he  was  a 
foreign  devil  or  no.  I  have  told  you  he  said  he 
was  Professor  Panky," 

"  I  suppose  he  had  a  dark  complexion  and  black 
hair  like  the  rest  of  us  ?" 

"  Dark  complexion  and  hair  purplish  rather  than 

black.     I   was  surprised  to  see  that  his  eyelashes 

were  as  light  as  my  own,  and  his  eyes  were  blue 

like    mine — but    you    will    have   noticed    this    at 

dinner." 

103 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  did  not,  and  I  think  I  should 
have  done  so  if  it  had  been  there  to  notice." 

"Oh,  but  it  was  so  indeed." 

"  Perhaps.  Was  there  anything  strange  about 
his  way  of  talking  ?  " 

"A  Httle  about  his  grammar,  but  these  Bridgeford 
Professors  have  often  risen  from  the  ranks.  His 
pronunciation  was  nearly  like  yours  and  mine." 

"Was  his  manner  friendly  ?" 

"Very;  more  so  than  I  could  understand  at 
first.  I  had  not,  however,  been  with  him  long  be- 
fore I  saw  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  when  I  asked  him 
whether  he  was  in  distress,  he  said  I  reminded  him 
of  a  son  whom  he  had  lost  and  had  found  after 
many  years,  only  to  lose  him  almost  immediately 
for  ever.     Hence  his  cordiality  towards  me." 

"  Then,"  said  Yram  half  hysterically  to  herself, 
"he  knew  who  you  were.  Now,  how,  I  wonder, 
did  he  find  that  out  ?  "  All  vestige  of  doubt  as  to 
who  the  man  might  be  had  now  left  her. 

"  Certainly  he  knew  who  I  was.  He  spoke  about 
you  more  than  once,  and  wished  us  every  kind  of 
prosperity,  baring  his  head  reverently  as  he  spoke." 

"  Poor  fellow !  Did  he  say  anything  about 
Higgs?" 

"  A  good  deal,  and  I  was  surprised  to  find  he 

thought  about  it  all  much  as  we  do.     But  when  I 

said  that  if  I  could  go  down  into  the  hell  of  which 

Higgs  used  to  talk  to  you  while  he  was  in  prison,  I 

should  expect  to  find  him  in  its  hottest  fires,  he  did 

not  like  it." 

104 


Yram  and  Her  Son 

"  Possibly  not,  my  dear.  Did  you  tell  him  how 
the  other  boys,  when  you  were  at  school,  used 
sometimes  to  say  you  were  son  to  this  man  Higgs, 
and  that  the  people  of  Sunch'ston  used  to  say  so 
also,  till  the  Mayor  trounced  two  or  three  people 
so  roundly  that  they  held  their  tongues  for  the 
future  ?  " 

"  Not  all  that,  but  I  said  that  silly  people  had 
believed  me  to  be  the  Sunchild's  son,  and  what  a 
disgrace  I  should  hold  it  to  be  son  to  such  an  im- 
postor." 

"Whatdidhesay  to  this?" 

"  He  asked  whether  I  should  feel  the  disgrace 
less  if  Higgs  were  to  undo  the  mischief  he  had 
caused  by  coming  back  and  shewing  himself  to  the 
people  for  what  he  was.  But  he  said  it  would  be 
no  use  for  him  to  do  so,  inasmuch  as  people  would 
kill  him  but  would  not  believe  him." 

"And  you  said  ?" 

"  Let  him  come  back,  speak  out,  and  chance 
what  might  befall  him.  In  that  case,  I  should 
honour  him,  father  or  no  father." 

"And  he?" 

"  He  asked  if  that  would  be  a  bargain  ;  and  when 
I  said  it  would,  he  grasped  me  warmly  by  the  hand 
on  Higgs's  behalf — though  what  it  could  matter  to 
him  passes  my  comprehension." 

"But  he  saw  that  even  though   Higgs  were  to 

shew  himself  and  say  who  he  was,  it  would  mean 

death  to  himself  and  no  good  to  any  one  else  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

105 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"Then  he  can  have  meant  nothing  by  shaking 
hands  with  you.  It  was  an  idle  jest.  And  now  for 
your  poachers.  You  do  not  know  who  they  were  ? 
1  will  tell  you.  The  two  w^ho  sat  on  the  one  side 
the  fire  were  Professors  Hanky  and  Panky  from 
the  City  of  the  People  who  are  above  Suspicion." 

"  No,"  said  George  vehemently.     "  Impossible." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  boy,  quite  possible,  and  whether 
possible  or  impossible,  assuredly  true." 

"And  the  third  man  ?  " 

"The  third  man  was  dressed  in  the  old  costume. 
He  was  in  possession  of  several  brace  of  birds. 
The  Professors  vowed  they  had  not  eaten  any " 

"  Oh  yes,  but  they  had,"  blurted  out  George. 

"Of  course  they  had,  my  dear ;  and  a  good  thing 
too.    Let  us  return  to  the  man  in  the  old  costume." 

"That  is  puzzhng.     Who  did  he  say  he  was  ?  " 

"  He  said  he  was  one  of  your  men  ;  that  you  had 
instructed  him  to  provide  you  with  three  dozen 
quails  for  Sunday  ;  and  that  you  let  your  men 
wear  the  old  costume  if  they  had  any  of  it  left, 
provided " 

This  was  too  much  for  George  ;  he  started  to  his 
feet.  "  What,  my  dearest  mother,  does  all  this 
mean  ?  You  have  been  playing  with  me  all 
through.      What  is  coming  ?  " 

"A  very  little  more,  and  you  shall  hear.     This 

man  staid  with  the  Professors  till  nearly  midnight, 

and  then  left  them  on  the  plea  that  he  would  finish 

the  night  in  the  Ranger's  shelter " 

"  Ranger's  shelter,  indeed  !     Why " 

1 06 


Yram  and  Her  Son 

"  Hush,  my  darling  boy,  be  patient  with  me.  He 
said  he  must  be  up  betimes,  to  run  down  the  rest 
of  the  quails  you  had  ordered  him  to  bring  you. 
But  before  leaving  the  Professors  he  beguiled  them 
into  giving  him  up  their  permit." 

"Then,"  said  George,  striding  about  the  room 
with  his  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  flashing,  "  he  was 
the  man  with  whom  I  walked  down  this  afternoon." 

"  Exactly  so." 

"  And  he  must  have  changed  his  dress  ?  " 

"  Exactly  so." 

"  But  where  and  how  ?  " 

"At  some  place  not  very  far  down  on  the  other 
side  the  range,  where  he  had  hidden  his  old  clothes." 

"  And  who,  in  the  name  of  all  that  we  hold  most 
sacred,  do  you  take  him  to  have  been — for  I  see 
you  know  more  than  you  have  yet  told  me  ?  " 

"My  son,  he  was  Higgs  the  Sunchild,  father  to 
that  boy  whom  I  love  next  to  my  husband  more 
dearly  than  any  one  in  the  whole  world." 

She  folded  her  arms  about  him  for  a  second, 
without  kissing  him,  and  left  him.  "And  now," 
she  said,  the  moment  she  had  closed  the  door — 
"  and  now  I  may  cry." 


She  did  not  cry  for  long,  and  having  removed 

all  trace  of  tears  as  far  as  might  be,  she  returned 

to    her    son    outwardly    composed    and    cheerful. 

"  Shall    I    say   more   now,"   she   said,    seeing  how 

grave  he  looked,  "or  shall  I  leave  you,  and  talk 

further  with  you  to-morrow  ? " 

107 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  Now — now — now  ! " 

"Good!  A  little  before  Higgs  came  here,  the 
Mayor,  as  he  now  is,  poor,  handsome,  generous 
to  a  fault  so  far  as  he  had  the  wherewithal,  was 
adored  by  all  the  women  of  his  own  rank  in 
Sunch'ston.  Report  said  that  he  had  adored  many 
of  them  in  return,  but  after  having  known  me  for 
a  very  few  days,  he  asked  me  to  marry  him,  pro- 
testing that  he  was  a  changed  man.  I  liked  him, 
as  every  one  else  did,  but  I  was  not  in  love  with 
him,  and  said  so  ;  he  said  he  would  give  me  as 
much  time  as  I  chose,  if  I  would  not  point-blank 
refuse  him  ;  and  so  the  matter  was  left. 

"Within  a  week  or  so  Higgs  was  brought  to  the 
prison,  and  he  had  not  been  there  long  before  I 
found,  or  thought  I  found,  that  I  liked  him  better 
than  I  liked  Strong.  I  was  a  fool — but  there  1  As 
for  Higgs,  he  liked,  but  did  not  love  me.  If  I  had 
let  him  alone  he  would  have  done  the  like  by  me  j 
and  let  each  other  alone  we  did,  till  the  day  before 
he  was  taken  down  to  the  capital.  On  that  day, 
whether  through  his  fault  or  mine  I  know  not — we 
neither  of  us  meant  it — it  was  as  though  Nature, 
my  dear,  was  determined  that  you  should  not  slip 
through  her  fingers — well,  on  that  day  we  took  it 
into  our  heads  that  we  were  broken-hearted  lovers 
— the  rest  followed.  And  how,  my  dearest  boy,  as 
I  look  upon  you,  can  I  feign  repentance  ? 

"  I\Iy  husband,  who  never  saw  Higgs,  and  knew 

nothing  about  him  except  the  too  little  that  I  told 

him,  pressed   his   suit,  and   about   a   month    after 

'o8 


Yram  and  Her  Son 

Higgs  had  gone,  having  recovered  my  passing  in- 
fatuation for  him,  I  took  kindly  to  the  Mayor  and 
accepted  him,  without  telhng  him  what  I  ought  to 
have  told  him — but  the  words  stuck  in  my  throat. 
I  had  not  been  engaged  to  him  many  days  before  I 
found  that  there  was  something  which  I  should  not 
be  able  to  hide  much  longer. 

"  You  know,  my  dear,  that  my  mother  had  been 
long  dead,  and  I  never  had  a  sister  or  any  near 
kinswoman.  At  my  wits'  end  who  I  should  consult, 
instinct  drew  me  to  Mrs.  Humdrum,  then  a  woman 
of  about  five-and-forty.  She  was  a  grand  lady, 
while  I  was  about  the  rank  of  one  of  my  own 
housemaids.  I  had  no  claim  on  her ;  I  went  to 
her  as  a  lost  dog  looks  into  the  faces  of  people  on 
a  road,  and  singles  out  the  one  who  will  most 
surely  help  him.  I  had  had  a  good  look  at  her 
once  as  she  was  putting  on  her  gloves,  and  I  liked 
the  way  she  did  it.  I  marvel  at  my  own  boldness. 
At  any  rate,  I  asked  to  see  her,  and  told  her  my 
story  exactly  as  I  have  now  told  it  to  you. 

"  'You  have  no  mother  ?'  she  said,  when  she  had 
heard  all. 

"'No.' 

"'Then,  my  dear,  I  will  mother  you  myself. 
Higgs  is  out  of  the  question,  so  Strong  must  marry 
you  at  once.  We  will  tell  him  everything,  and  I, 
on  your  behalf,  will  insist  upon  it  that  the  engage- 
ment is  at  an  end.  I  hear  good  reports  of  him,  and 
if  we  are  fair  towards  him  he  will  be  generous  to- 
wards us.     Besides,  I  believe  he  is  so  much  in  love 

109 


Erewhon   Revisited 

with  you  that  he  would  sell  his  soul  to  get  you. 
Send  him  to  me.  I  can  deal  with  him  better  than 
you  can.' " 

"  And  what,"  said  George,  "  did  my  father,  as  I 
shall  always  call  him,  say  to  all  this  ?  " 

"  Truth  bred  chivalry  in  him  at  once.  *  I  will 
marry  her,'  he  said,  with  hardly  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, '  but  it  will  be  better  that  I  should  not  be  put 
on  any  lower  footing  than  Higgs  was.  I  ought  not 
to  be  denied  anything  that  has  been  allowed  to  him. 
If  I  am  trusted,  I  can  trust  myself  to  trust  and  think 
no  evil  either  of  Higgs  or  her.  They  were  pestered 
beyond  endurance,  as  I  have  been  ere  now.  If  I 
am  held  at  arm's  length  till  I  am  fast  bound,  I  shall 
marry  Yram  just  the  same,  but  I  doubt  whether  she 
and  I  shall  ever  be  quite  happy.' 

"'Come  to  my  house  this  evening,'  said  Mrs. 
Humdrum,  '  and  you  will  find  Yram  there.'  He 
came,  he  found  me,  and  within  a  fortnight  we  were 
man  and  wife." 

"  How  much  does  not  all  this  explain,"  said 
George,  smiling  but  very  gravely.  "  And  you  are 
going  to  ask  me  to  forgive  you  for  robbing  me  of 
such  a  father." 

"  He  has  forgiven  me,  my  dear,  for  robbing  him 

of  such  a  son.     He  never  reproached  me.     From 

that  day  to  this  he  has  never  given  me  a  harsh  word 

or  even  syllable.     When  you  were  born  he  took  to 

you  at  once,  as,  indeed,  who  could  help  doing  ?  for 

you    were   the    sweetest   child   both    in  looks  and 

temper  that  it  is  possible  to  conceive.    Your  having 

no 


Yram  and  Her  Son 

light  hair  and  eyes  made  things  more  difficult  ;  for 
this,  and  your  being  born,  almost  to  the  day,  nine 
months  after  Higgs  had  left  us,  made  people  talk — 
but  your  father  kept  their  tongues  within  bounds. 
They  talk  still,  but  they  liked  what  little  they  saw  of 
Higgs,  they  like  the  Mayor  and  me,  and  they  like 
you  the  best  of  all ;  so  they  please  themselves  by 
having  the  thing  both  ways.  Though,  therefore, 
you  are  son  to  the  Mayor,  Higgs  cast  some  miracu- 
lous spell  upon  me  before  he  left,  whereby  my  son 
should  be  in  some  measure  his  as  well  as  the 
Mayor's.  It  was  this  miraculous  spell  that  caused 
you  to  be  born  two  months  too  soon,  and  we  called 
you  by  Higgs's  first  name  as  though  to  show  that 
we  took  that  view  of  the  matter  ourselves. 

"  Mrs.  Humdrum,  however,  was  very  positive  that 
there  was  no  spell  at  all.  She  had  repeatedly  heard 
her  father  say  that  the  Mayor's  grandfather  was 
light-haired  and  blue-eyed,  and  that  every  third 
generation  in  that  family  a  light-haired  son  was 
born.  The  people  believe  this  too.  Nobody  dis- 
believes Mrs.  Humdrum,  but  they  like  the  miracle 
best,  so  that  is  how  it  has  been  settled. 

"  I  never  knew  whether  Mrs.  Humdrum  told  her 
husband,  but  I  think  she  must ;  for  a  place  was 
found  almost  immediately  for  my  husband  in  Mr. 
Humdrum's  business.  He  made  himself  useful  ; 
after  a  few  years  he  was  taken  into  partnership,  and 
on  Mr.  Humdrum's  death  became  head  of  the  firm. 
Between  ourselves,  he  says  laughingly  that  all  his 
success  in  life  was  due  to  Higgs  and  me." 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  I  shall  give  Mrs.  Humdrum  a  double  dose  of 
kissing,"  said  George  thoughtfully,  "  next  time  I 
see  her." 

"  Oh,  do,  do  ;  she  will  so  like  it.  And  now,  my 
darling  boy,  tell  your  poor  mother  whether  or  no 
you  can  forgive  her." 

He  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  again 
and  again,  but  for  a  time  he  could  find  no  utter- 
ance. Presently  he  smiled,  and  said,  "  Of  course  I 
do,  but  it  is  you  who  should  forgive  me,  for  was  it 
not  all  my  fault  ?" 

When  Yram,  too,  had  become  more  calm,  she 
said,  "  It  is  late,  and  we  have  no  time  to  lose. 
Higgs's  coming  at  this  time  is  mere  accident ;  if  he 
had  had  news  from  Erewhon  he  would  have  known 
much  that  he  did  not  know.  I  cannot  guess  why 
he  has  come — probably  through  mere  curiosity,  but 
he  will  hear  or  have  heard — yes,  you  and  he  talked 
about  it — of  the  temple  ;  being  here,  he  will  want  to 
see  the  dedication.  From  what  you  have  told  me 
I  feel  sure  that  he  will  not  make  a  fool  of  himself 
by  saying  who  he  is,  but  in  spite  of  his  disguise  he 
may  be  recognised.  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  is  now 
in  Sunch'ston  ;  therefore,  to-morrow  morning 
scour  the  town  to  find  him.  Tell  him  he  is  dis- 
covered, tell  him  you  know  from  me  that  he  is  your 
father,  and  that  I  wish  to  see  him  with  all  good-will 
towards  him.  He  will  come.  We  will  then  talk  to 
him,  and  show  him  that  he  must  go  back  at  once. 
You  can  escort  him  to  the  statues ;  after  passing 
them  he  will  be  safe.     He  will  give  you  no  trouble, 

112 


Yram  and  Her  Son 

but  if  he  does,  arrest  him  on  a  charge  of  poaching, 
and  take  him  to  the  gaol,  where  we  must  do  the 
best  we  can  with  him — but  he  will  give  you  none. 
We  need  say  nothing  to  the  Professors.  No  one 
but  ourselves  will  know  of  his  having  been  here." 

On  this  she  again  embraced  her  son  and  left  him. 
If  two  photographs  could  have  been  taken  of  her, 
one  as  she  opened  the  door  and  looked  fondly  back 
on  George,  and  the  other  as  she  closed  it  behind 
her,  the  second  portrait  would  have  seemed  taken 
ten  years  later  than  the  first. 

As  for  George,  he  went  gravely  but  not  unhappily 
to  his  own  room.  "  So  that  ready,  plausible  fellow," 
he  muttered  to  himself,  "  was  my  own  father.  At 
any  rate,  I  am  not  son  to  a  fool — and  he  liked  me." 


it3  R 


CHAPTER  X 

MY  FATHER,  FEARING  RECOGNITION  AT  SUNCH'- 
STON,  BETAKES  HIMSELF  TO  THE  NEIGHBOUR- 
ING  TOWN   OF   FAIRMEAD. 

I  WILL  now  return  to  my  father.  Whether  from 
fatigue  or  over-excitement,  he  slept  only  by  fits 
and  starts,  and  when  awake  he  could  not  rid 
himself  of  the  idea  that,  in  spite  of  his  disguise,  he 
might  be  recognised,  either  at  his  inn  or  in  the 
town,  by  some  one  of  the  many  who  had  seen 
him  when  he  was  in  prison.  In  this  case  there 
was  no  knowing  what  might  happen,  but  at  best, 
discovery  would  probably  prevent  his  seeing  the 
temple  dedicated  to  himself,  and  hearing  Professor 
Hanky's  sermon,  which  he  was  particularly  anxious 
to  do. 

So  strongly  did  he  feel  the  real  or  fancied  danger 
he  should  incur  by  spending  Saturday  in  Sunch'- 
ston,  that  he  rose  as  soon  as  he  heard  any  one 
stirring,  and  having  paid  his  bill,  walked  quietly 
out  of  the  house,  without  saying  where  he  was 
going. 

There  was  a   town  about  ten  miles  off,  not  so 

important  as  Sunch'ston,  but  having  some  10,000 

inhabitants ;    he    resolved  to   find    accommodation 

there  for  the  day  and  night,  and  to  walk  over  to 

114 


Flight  to  Fairmead 

Sunch'ston  in  time  for  the  dedication  ceremony, 
which  he  had  found,  on  inquiry,  would  begin  at 
eleven  o'clock. 

The  country  between  Sunch'ston  and  Fairmead, 
as  the  town  just  referred  to  was  named,  was  still 
mountainous,  and  being  well  wooded  as  well  as 
well  watered,  abounded  in  views  of  singular  beauty; 
but  I  have  no  time  to  dwell  on  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  my  father  described  them  to  me.  The 
road  took  him  at  right  angles  to  the  main  road 
down  the  valley  from  Sunch'ston  to  the  capital, 
and  this  was  one  reason  why  he  had  chosen  Fair- 
mead rather  than  Clearwater,  which  was  the  next 
town  lower  down  on  the  main  road.  He  did  not, 
indeed,  anticipate  that  any  one  would  want  to  find 
him,  but  whoever  might  so  want  would  be  more 
likely  to  go  straight  down  the  valley  than  to  turn 
aside  towards  Fairmead. 

On  reaching  this  place,  he  found  it  pretty  full  of 
people,  for  Saturday  was  market-day.  There  was 
a  considerable  open  space  in  the  middle  of  the 
town,  with  an  arcade  running  round  three  sides  of 
it,  while  the  fourth  was  completely  taken  up  by  the 
venerable  Musical  Bank  of  the  city,  a  building 
which  had  weathered  the  storms  of  more  than  fx/J 
centuries.  On  the  outside  of  the  wall,  abutting  on 
the  market-place,  were  three  wooden  sedilia,  in 
which  the  Mayor  and  two  coadjutors  sate  weekly 
on  market-days  to  give  advice,  redress  grievances, 
and,  if  necessary  (which  it  very  seldom  was)  to 
administer  correction. 

"5 


Erewhon  Revisited 

My  father  was  much  interested  in  watching  the 
proceedings  in  a  case  which  he  found  on  inquiry 
to  be  not  infrequent.  A  man  was  complaining  to 
the  Mayor  that  his  daughter,  a  lovely  child  of  eight 
years  old,  had  none  of  the  faults  common  to  chil- 
dren of  her  age,  and,  in  fact,  seemed  absolutely 
deficient  in  immoral  sense.  She  never  told  lies, 
had  never  stolen  so  much  as  a  lollipop,  never 
showed  any  recalcitrancy  about  saying  her  prayers, 
and  by  her  incessant  obedience  had  filled  her  poor 
father  and  mother  with  the  gravest  anxiety  as 
regards  her  future  well-being.  He  feared  it  would 
be  necessary  to  send  her  to  a  deformatory. 

"  I  have  generally  found,"  said  the  Mayor, 
gravely  but  kindly,  "that  the  fault  in  these  distress- 
ing cases  lies  rather  with  the  parent  than  the  chil- 
dren. Does  the  child  never  break  anything  by 
accident  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  father. 

"  And  you  have  duly  punished  her  for  it  ?  " 

"  Alas !  sir,  I  fear  I  only  told  her  she  was  a 
naughty  girl,  and  must  not  do  it  again." 

"Then  how  can  you  expect  your  child  to  learn 
those  petty  arts  of  deception  without  which  she 
:7",«=t  fall  an  easy  prey  to  any  one  who  wishes  to 
deceive  her  ?  How  can  she  detect  lying  in  other 
people  unless  she  has  had  some  experience  of  it 
in  her  own  practice  ?  How,  again,  can  she  learn 
when  it  will  be  well  for  her  to  lie,  and  when  to 
refrain  from  doing  so,  unless  she  has  made  many 
a  mistake  on  a  small  scale  while  at  an  age  when 

Ii6 


Flight  to  Fairmead 

mistakes  do  not  greatly  matter  ?  The  Sunchild 
(and  here  he  reverently  raised  his  hat),  as  you 
may  read  in  chapter  thirty-one  of  his  Sayings,  has 
left  us  a  touching  tale  of  a  little  boy,  who,  having 
cut  down  an  apple  tree  in  his  father's  garden, 
lamented  his  inability  to  tell  a  lie.  Some  com- 
mentators, indeed,  have  held  that  the  evidence 
was  so  strongly  against  the  boy  that  no  lie  would 
have  been  of  any  use  to  him,  and  that  his  percep- 
tion of  this  fact  was  all  that  he  intended  to  convey ; 
but  the  best  authorities  take  his  simple  words,  '  I 
cannot  tell  a  lie,'  in  their  most  natural  sense,  as 
being  his  expression  of  regret  at  the  way  in  which 
his  education  had  been  neglected.  If  that  case 
had  come  before  me,  I  should  have  punished  the 
boy's  father,  unless  he  could  show  that  the  best 
authorities  are  mistaken  (as  indeed  they  too  gene- 
rally are),  and  that  under  more  favourable  cir- 
cumstances the  boy  would  have  been  able  to  lie, 
and  would  have  lied  accordingly. 

"There  is  no  occasion  for  you  to  send  your 
child  to  a  deformatory.  I  am  always  averse  to 
extreme  measures  when  I  can  avoid  them.  More- 
over, in  a  deformatory  she  would  be  almost  certain 
to  fall  in  with  characters  as  intractable  as  her  own. 
Take  her  home  and  whip  her  next  time  she  so 
much  as  pulls  about  the  salt.  If  you  will  do  this 
whenever  you  get  a  chance,  I  have  every  hope 
that  you  will  have  no  occasion  to  come  to  me 
again." 

*<  Very  well,  sir,"  said  the  father,  "  I  will  do  my 
1x7 


Erewhon   Revisited 

best,  but  the  child  is  so  instinctively  truthful  that 
I  am  afraid  whipping  will  be  of  little  use." 

There  were  other  cases,  none  of  them  serious, 
which  in  the  old  days  would  have  been  treated  by 
a  straightener.  My  father  had  already  surmised 
that  the  straightener  had  become  extinct  as  a 
class,  having  been  superseded  by  the  Managers 
and  Cashiers  of  the  Musical  Banks,  but  this  be- 
came more  apparent  as  he  listened  to  the  cases 
that  next  came  on.  These  were  dealt  with  quite 
reasonably,  except  that  the  magistrate  always 
ordered  an  emetic  and  a  strong  purge  in  addition 
to  the  rest  of  his  sentence,  as  holding  that  all 
diseases  of  the  moral  sense  spring  from  impurities 
within  the  body,  which  must  be  cleansed  before 
there  could  be  any  hope  of  spiritual  improvement. 
If  any  devils  were  found  in  what  passed  from  the 
prisoner's  body,  he  was  to  be  brought  up  again  ; 
for  in  this  case  the  rest  of  the  sentence  might  very 
possibly  be  remitted. 

When  the  Mayor  and  his  coadjutors  had  done 
sitting,  my  father  strolled  round  the  Musical  Bank 
and  entered  it  by  the  main  entrance,  which  was 
on  the  top  of  a  flight  of  steps  that  went  down  on 
to  the  principal  street  of  the  town.  How  strange 
it  is  that,  no  matter  how  gross  a  superstition  may 
have  polluted  it,  a  holy  place,  if  hallowed  by  long 
veneration,  remains  always  holy.  Look  at  Delphi. 
What  a  fraud  it  was,  and  yet  how  hallowed  it 
must  ever  remain.  But  letting  this  pass.  Musical 
Banks,  especially  when  of  great  age,  always   fas- 

ii8 


Flight  to  Fairmead 

cinated  my  father,  and  being  now  tired  with  his 
walk,  he  sat  down  on  one  of  the  many  rush- 
bottomed  seats,  and  (for  there  was  no  service  at 
this  hour)  gave  free  rein  to  meditation. 

How  peaceful  it  all  was  with  its  droning  old- 
world  smell  of  ancestor,  dry  rot,  and  stale  incense. 
As  the  clouds  came  and  went,  the  grey-green, 
cobweb-chastened,  light  ebbed  and  flowed  over 
the  walls  and  ceiling ;  to  watch  the  fitfulness  of 
its  streams  was  a  sufficient  occupation.  A  hen  laid 
an  egg  outside  and  began  to  cackle — it  was  an 
event  of  magnitude  ;  a  peasant  sharpening  his 
scythe,  a  blacksmith  hammering  at  his  anvil,  the 
clack  of  a  wooden  shoe  upon  the  pavement,  the 
boom  of  a  bumble-bee,  the  dripping  of  the 
fountain,  all  these  things,  with  such  concert  as 
they  kept,  invited  the  dewy-feathered  sleep  that 
visited  him,  and  held  him  for  the  best  part  of  an 
hour. 

My  father  has  said  that  the  Erewhonians  never 
put  up  monuments  or  write  epitaphs  for  their  dead, 
and  this  he  believed  to  be  still  true  ;  but  it  was  not 
so  always,  and  on  waking  his  eye  was  caught  by  a 
monument  of  great  beauty,  which  bore  a  date  of 
about  1550  of  our  era.  It  was  to  an  old  lady,  who 
must  have  been  very  loveable  if  the  sweet  smiling 
face  of  her  recumbent  figure  was  as  faithful  to  the 
original  as  its  strongly  marked  individuality  sug- 
gested. I  need  not  give  the  earlier  part  of  her 
epitaph,  which  was  conventional  enough,  but  my 

father  was  so  struck  with  the  concluding  lines,  that 

119 


Erewhon   Revisited 

he  copied  them  into  the  note-book  which  he  always 
carried  in  his  pocket.    They  ran  : — 

I  fall  asleep  in  the  full  and  certain  hope 

That  my  slumber  shall  not  be  broken  ; 

And  that  though  I  be  all-forgetting, 

Yet  shall  I  not  be  all-forgotten, 

But  continue  that  life  in  the  thoughts  and  deeds 

Of  those  I  loved, 

Into  which,  while  the  power  to  strive  was  yet  vouchsafed  me, 

I  fondly  strove  to  enter. 

My  father  deplored  his  inability  to  do  justice  to 
the  subtle  tenderness  of  the  original,  but  the  above 
was  the  nearest  he  could  get  to  it. 

How  different  this  from  the  opinions  concerning 
a  future  state  which  he  had  tried  to  set  before  the 
Erewhonians  some  twenty  years  earlier.  It  all 
came  back  to  him,  as  the  storks  had  done,  now 
that  he  was  again  in  an  Erewhonian  environment, 
and  he  particularly  remembered  how  one  youth 
had  inveighed  against  our  European  notions  of 
heaven  and  hell  with  a  contemptuous  flippancy 
that  nothing  but  youth  and  ignorance  could  even 
palliate. 

"Sir,"  he  had  said  to  my  father,  "your  heaven 
will  not  attract  me  unless  I  can  take  my  clothes 
and  my  luggage.  Yes  ;  and  I  must  lose  my  luggage 
and  find  it  again.  On  arriving,  I  must  be  told  that 
it  has  unfortunately  been  taken  to  a  wrong  circle, 
and  that  there  may  be  some  difficulty  in  recovering 
it — or   it    shall    have    been    sent    up    to    mansion 


I20 


Flight  to  Fairmead 

number  five  hundred  thousand  millions  nine  hun- 
dred thousand  forty  six  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  eleven,  whereas  it  should  have  gone  to  four 
hundred  thousand  millions,  &c.,  &c. ;  and  am  I  sure 
that  I  addressed  it  rightly  ?  Then,  when  I  am  just 
getting  cross  enough  to  run  some  risk  of  being 
turned  out,  the  luggage  shall  make  its  appearance, 
hat-box,  umbrella,  rug,  golf-sticks,  bicycle,  and 
everything  else  all  quite  correct,  and  in  my  delight 
I  shall  tip  the  angel  double  and  realise  that  I  am 
enjoying  myself. 

"Or  I  must  have  asked  what  I  could  have  for 
breakfast,  and  be  told  I  could  have  boiled  eggs, 
or  eggs  and  bacon,  or  filleted  plaice.  '  Filleted 
plaice,'  I  shall  exclaim,  '  no  !  not  that.  Have  you 
any  red  mullets  ? '  And  the  angel  will  say,  '  Why 
no,  sir,  the  gulf  has  been  so  rough  that  there  has 
hardly  any  fish  come  in  this  three  days,  and  there 
has  been  such  a  run  on  it  that  we  have  nothing 
left  but  plaice.' 

"'Well,  well,'  I  shall  say,  'have  you  any 
kidneys  ? ' 

" '  You  can  have  one  kidney,  sir,'  will  be  the 
answer. 

"'  One  kidney,  indeed,  and  you  call  this  heaven  ! 
At  any  rate  you  will  have  sausages  ? ' 

" '  Then  the  angel  will  say,  *  We  shall  have  some 
after  Sunday,  sir,  but  we  are  quite  out  of  them  at 
present.' 

"And  I  shall  say,  somewhat  sulkily,  'Then  I 
suppose  I  must  have  eggs  and  bacon.' 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  But  in  the  morning  there  will  come  up  a  red 
mullet,  beautifully  cooked,  a  couple  of  kidneys  and 
three  sausages  browned  to  a  turn,  and  seasoned 
with  just  so  much  sage  and  thyme  as  will  savour 
without  overwhelming  them  ;  and  I  shall  eat  every- 
thing. It  shall  then  transpire  that  the  angel  knew 
about  the  luggage,  and  what  I  was  to  have  for 
breakfast,  all  the  time,  but  wanted  to  give  me  the 
pleasure  of  finding  things  turn  out  better  than  I 
had  expected.  Heaven  would  be  a  dull  place 
without  such  occasional  petty  false  alarms  as 
these." 

I  have  no  business  to  leave  my  father's  story, 
but  the  mouth  of  the  ox  that  treadeth  out  the  corn 
should  not  be  so  closely  muzzled  that  he  cannot 
sometimes  filch  a  mouthful  for  himself ;  and  when 
I  had  copied  out  the  foregoing  somewhat  irreve- 
rent paragraphs,  which  I  took  down  (with  no  im- 
portant addition  or  alteration)  from  my  father's 
lips,  I  could  not  refrain  from  making  a  few  reflec- 
tions of  my  own,  which  I  will  ask  the  reader's 
forbearance  if  I  lay  before  him. 

Let  heaven  and  hell  alone,  but  think  of  Hades, 
with  Tantalus,  Sisyphus,  Tityus,  and  all  the  rest 
of  them.  How  futile  were  the  attempts  of  the  old 
Greeks  and  Romans  to  lay  before  us  any  plausible 
conception  of  eternal  torture.  What  were  the 
Danaids  doing  but  that  which  each  one  of  us  has 
to  do  during  his  or  her  whole  life  ?  What  are 
our  bodies  if  not  sieves  that  we  are  for  ever  trying 
to  fill,  but  which  we  must  refill  continually  with- 


Flight  to  Fairmead 

out  hope  of  being  able  to  keep  them  full  for  long 
together  ?  Do  we  mind  this  ?  Not  so  long  as 
we  can  get  the  wherewithal  to  fill  them ;  and  the 
Danaids  never  seem  to  have  run  short  of  water. 
They  would  probably  ere  long  take  to  clearing  out 
any  obstruction  in  their  sieves  if  they  found  them 
getting  choked.  What  could  it  matter  to  them 
whether  the  sieves  got  full  or  no  ?  They  were 
not  paid  for  filling  them. 

Sisyphus,  again  !  Can  any  one  believe  that  he 
would  go  on  rolling  that  stone  year  after  year  and 
seeing  it  roll  down  again  unless  he  liked  seeing  it  ? 
We  are  not  told  that  there  was  a  dragon  which 
attacked  him  whenever  he  tried  to  shirk.  If  he 
had  greatly  cared  about  getting  his  load  over  the 
last  pinch,  experience  would  have  shown  him  some 
way  of  doing  so.  The  probability  is  that  he  got 
to  enjoy  the  downward  rush  of  his  stone,  and  very 
likely  amused  himself  by  so  timing  it  as  to  cause 
the  greatest  scare  to  the  greatest  number  of  the 
shades  that  were  below. 

What  though  Tantalus  found  the  water  shun 
him  and  the  fruits  fly  from  him  when  he  tried  to 
seize  them  ?  The  writer  of  the  "  Odyssey  "  gives  us 
no  hint  that  he  was  dying  of  thirst  or  hunger. 
The  pores  of  his  skin  would  absorb  enough  water 
to  prevent  the  first,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  he 
got  fruit  enough,  one  way  or  another,  to  keep  him 
going. 

Tityus,  as  an  effort  after  the  conception  of  an 

eternity  of  torture,  is  not  successful.     What  could 

123 


Erewhon  Revisited 

an  eagle  matter  on  the  liver  of  a  man  whose  body 
covered  nine  acres  ?  Before  long  he  would  find 
it  an  agreeable  stimulant.  If,  then,  the  greatest 
minds  of  antiquity  could  invent  nothing  that 
should  carry  better  conviction  of  eternal  torture, 
is  it  likely  that  the  conviction  can  be  carried  at 
all? 

Methought  I  saw  Jove  sitting  on  the  topmost  ridges 
of  Olympus  and  confessing  failure  to  Minerva.  "  I 
see,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  that  there  is  no  use  in 
trying  to  make  people  very  happy  or  very  miser- 
able for  long  together.  Pain,  if  it  does  not  soon 
kill,  consists  not  so  much  in  present  suffering  as 
in  the  still  recent  memory  of  a  time  when  there 
was  less,  and  in  the  fear  that  there  will  soon  be 
more ;  and  so  happiness  lies  less  in  immediate 
pleasure  than  in  lively  recollection  of  a  worse  time 
and  lively  hope  of  better." 

As  for  the  young  gentleman  above  referred  to, 
my  father  met  him  with  the  assurance  that  there 
had  been  several  cases  in  which  living  people  had 
been  caught  up  into  heaven  or  carried  down  into 
hell,  and  been  allowed  to  return  to  earth  and  re- 
port what  they  had  seen  ;  while  to  others  visions 
had  been  vouchsafed  so  clearly  that  thousands  of 
authentic  pictures  had  been  painted  of  both  states. 
All  incentive  to  good  conduct,  he  had  then  alleged, 
was  found  to  be  at  once  removed  from  those  who 
doubted  the  fidelity  of  these  pictures. 

This  at  least  was  what  he  had  then  said,  but  I 

hardly  think  he  would  have  said  it  at  the  time  of 

124 


Flight  to  Fairmead 

which  I  am  now  writing.  As  he  continued  to  sit 
in  the  Musical  Bank,  he  took  from  his  vahse  the 
pamphlet  on  "  The  Physics  of  Vicarious  Existence," 
by  Dr.  Gurgoyle,  which  he  had  bought  on  the  pre- 
ceding evening,  doubtless  being  led  to  choose  this 
particular  work  by  the  tenor  of  the  old  lady's 
epitaph. 

The  second  title  he  found  to  run,  "  Being  Stric- 
tures on  Certain  Heresies  concerning  a  Future 
State  that  have  been  Engrafted  on  the  Sunchild's 
Teaching." 

My  father  shuddered  as  he  read  this  title.  "  How 
long,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  will  it  be  before  they 
are  at  one  another's  throats  ?  " 

On  reading  the  pamphlet,  he  found  it  added  little 
to  what  the  epitaph  had  already  conveyed  ;  but  it 
interested  him,  as  showing  that,  however  cata- 
clysmic a  change  of  national  opinions  may  appear 
to  be,  people  will  find  means  of  bringing  the  new 
into  more  or  less  conformity  with  the  old. 

Here  it  is  a  mere  truism  to  say  that  many  con- 
tinue to  live  a  vicarious  life  long  after  they  have 
ceased  to  be  aware  of  living.  This  view  is  as  old 
as  the  non  omnis  mortar  of  Horace,  and  we  may  be 
sure  some  thousands  of  years  older.  It  is  only, 
therefore,  with  much  diffidence  that  I  have  decided 
to  give  a  resume  of  opinions  many  of  which  those 
whom  I  alone  wish  to  please  will  have  laid  to  heart 
from  their  youth  upwards.  In  brief.  Dr.  Gurgoyle's 
contention  comes  to  little  more  than  saying  that 

the  quick  are  more  dead,  and  the  dead  more  quick, 

125 


Erewhon   Revisited 


than  we  commonly  think.  To  be  ahve,  according 
to  him,  is  only  to  be  unable  to  understand  how 
dead  one  is,  and  to  be  dead  is  only  to  be  invincibly 
ignorant  concerning  our  own  livingness — for  the 
dead  would  be  as  living  as  the  living  if  we  could 
only  get  them  to  believe  it. 


m6 


CHAPTER   XI 

PRESIDENT  GURGOYLE'S   PAMPHLET  "ON  THE 
PHYSICS   OF  VICARIOUS   EXISTENCE" 

Belief,  like  any  other  moving  body,  follows  the 
path  of  least  resistance,  and  this  path  had  led  Dr. 
Gurgoyle  to  the  conviction,  real  or  feigned,  that 
my  father  was  son  to  the  sun,  probably  by  the 
moon,  and  that  his  ascent  into  the  sky  with  an 
earthly  bride  was  due  to  the  sun's  interference 
with  the  laws  of  nature.  Nevertheless  he  was 
looked  upon  as  more  or  less  of  a  survival,  and  was 
deemed  lukewarm,  if  not  heretical,  by  those  who 
seemed  to  be  the  pillars  of  the  new  system. 

My  father  soon  found  that  not  even  Panky  could 
manipulate  his  teaching  more  freely  than  the 
Doctor  had  done.  My  father  had  taught  that 
when  a  man  was  dead  there  was  an  end  of  him, 
until  he  should  rise  again  in  the  flesh  at  the  last 
day,  to  enter  into  eternity  either  of  happiness  or 
misery.  He  had,  indeed,  often  talked  of  the  im- 
mortality which  some  achieve  even  in  this  world  ; 
but  he  had  cheapened  this,  declaring  it  to  be  an 
unsubstantial  mockery,  that  could  give  no  such 
comfort  in  the  hour  of  death  as  was  unquestionably 
given  by  belief  in  heaven  and  hell. 

Dr.  Gurgoyle,  however,  had  an  equal  horror,  on 
127 


Erewhon   Revisited 

the  one  hand,  of  anything  involving  resumption 
of  life  by  the  body  when  it  was  once  dead,  and 
on  the  other,  of  the  view  that  life  ended  with  the 
change  which  we  call  death.  He  did  not,  indeed, 
pretend  that  he  could  do  much  to  take  away  the 
sting  from  death,  nor  would  he  do  this  if  he  could, 
for  if  men  did  not  fear  death  unduly,  they  would 
often  court  it  unduly.  Death  can  only  be  belauded 
at  the  cost  of  belittling  life  ;  but  he  held  that  a 
reasonable  assurance  of  fair  fame  after  death  is  a 
truer  consolation  to  the  dying,  a  truer  comfort  to 
surviving  friends,  and  a  more  real  incentive  to  good 
conduct  in  this  life,  than  any  of  the  consolations 
or  incentives  falsely  fathered  upon  the  Sunchild. 

He  began  by  setting  aside  every  saying  ascribed, 
however  truly,  to  my  father,  if  it  made  against  his 
views,  and  by  putting  his  own  glosses  on  all  that 
he  could  gloze  into  an  appearance  of  being  in  his 
favour.  I  will  pass  over  his  attempt  to  combat  the 
rapidly  spreading  belief  in  a  heaven  and  hell  such 
as  we  accept,  and  will  only  summarise  his  conten- 
tion that,  of  our  two  lives — namely,  the  one  we  live 
in  our  own  persons,  and  that  other  life  which  we 
live  in  other  people  both  before  our  reputed  death 
and  after  it — the  second  is  as  essential  a  factor  of 
our  complete  life  as  the  first  is,  and  sometimes 
more  so. 

Life,  he  urged,  lies  not  in  bodily  organs,  but  in 

the  power  to  use  them,  and  in  the  use  that  is  made 

of  them — that  is  to  say,  in  the  work  they  do.     As 

the   essence   of   a  factory   is   not   in   the  building 

128 


Vicarious  Existence 

wherein  the  work  is  done,  nor  yet  in  the  imple- 
ments used  in  turning  it  out,  but  in  the  will-power 
of  the  master  and  in  the  goods  he  makes ;  so  the 
true  life  of  a  man  is  in  his  will  and  work,  not  in 
his  body.  "Those,"  he  argued,  "who  make  the 
life  of  a  man  reside  within  his  body,  are  like  one 
who  should  mistake  the  carpenter's  tool-box  for 
the  carpenter." 

He  maintained  that  this  had  been  my  father's 
teaching,  for  which  my  father  heartily  trusts  that 
he  may  be  forgiven. 

He  went  on  to  say  that  our  will-power  is  not 
wholly  limited  to  the  working  of  its  own  special 
system  of  organs,  but  under  certain  conditions  can 
work  and  be  worked  upon  by  other  will-powers 
like  itself :  so  that  if,  for  example,  A's  will-power 
has  got  such  hold  on  B's  as  to  be  able,  through  B, 
to  work  B's  mechanism,  what  seems  to  have  been 
B's  action  will  in  reality  have  been  more  A's  than 
B's,  and  this  in  the  same  real  sense  as  though  the 
physical  action  had  been  effected  through  A's  own 
mechanical  system— A,  in  fact,  will  have  been  living 
in  B.  The  universally  admitted  maxim  that  he  who 
does  this  or  that  by  the  hand  of  an  agent  does  it 
himself,  shews  that  the  foregoing  view  is  only  a 
roundabout  way  of  stating  what  common  sense 
treats  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Hence,  though  A's  individual  will-power  must  be 
held  to  cease  when  the  tools  it  works  with  are  de- 
stroyed or  out  of  gear,  yet,  so  long  as  any  survivors 

were  so  possessed  by  it  while  it  was  still  efficient,  or, 

129  I 


Erewhon   Revisited 

again,  become  so  impressed  by  its  operation  on 
them  through  work  that  he  has  left,  as  to  act  in 
obedience  to  his  will-power  rather  than  their  own, 
A  has  a  certain  amount  of  bond  fide  life  still  remain- 
ing. His  vicarious  life  is  not  affected  by  the  dis- 
solution of  his  body ;  and  in  many  cases  the  sum 
total  of  a  man's  vicarious  action  and  of  its  outcome 
exceeds  to  an  almost  infinite  extent  the  sum  total 
of  those  actions  and  works  that  were  effected 
through  the  mechanism  of  his  own  physical  organs. 
In  these  cases  his  vicarious  life  is  more  truly  his  life 
than  any  that  he  lived  in  his  own  person. 

"True,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "while  living 
in  his  own  person,  a  man  knows,  or  thinks  he 
knows,  what  he  is  doing,  whereas  we  have  no 
reason  to  suppose  such  knowledge  on  the  part  of 
one  whose  body  is  already  dust  ;  but  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  doer  has  less  to  do  with  the  livingness 
of  the  deed  than  people  generally  admit.  We  know 
nothing  of  the  power  that  sets  our  heart  beating, 
nor  yet  of  the  beating  itself  so  long  as  it  is  normal. 
We  know  nothing  of  our  breathing  or  of  our  diges- 
tion, of  the  all-important  work  we  achieved  as 
embryos,  nor  of  our  growth  from  infancy  to  man- 
hood. No  one  will  say  that  these  were  not  actions 
of  a  living  agent,  but  the  more  normal,  the  healthier, 
and  thus  the  more  truly  living,  the  agent  is,  the  less 
he  will  know  or  have  known  of  his  own  action. 
The  part  of  our  bodily  life  that  enters  into  our  con- 
sciousness is  very  small  as  compared  with  that  of 

which  we  have  no  consciousness.     What  completer 

130 


Vicarious  Existence 

proof  can  we  have  that  Hvingness  consists  in  deed 
rather  than  in  consciousness  of  deed  ? 

"The  foregoing  remarks  are  not  intended  to 
apply  so  much  to  vicarious  action  in  virtue,  we  will 
say,  of  a  settlement,  or  testamentary  disposition 
that  cannot  be  set  aside.  Such  action  is  apt  to  be 
too  unintelligent,  too  far  from  variation  and  quick 
change  to  rank  as  true  vicarious  action  ;  indeed  it 
is  not  rarely  found  to  efifect  the  very  opposite  of 
what  the  person  who  made  the  settlement  or  will 
desired.  They  are  meant  to  apply  to  that  more 
intelligent  and  versatile  action  engendered  by 
affectionate  remembrance.  Nevertheless,  even  the 
compulsory  vicarious  action  taken  in  consequence 
of  a  will,  and  indeed  the  very  name  "  will "  itself, 
shews  that  though  we  cannot  take  either  flesh  or 
money  with  us,  we  can  leave  our  will-power  behind 
us  in  very  efficient  operation. 

"This  vicarious  life  (on  which  I  have  insisted, 
I  fear  at  unnecessary  length,  for  it  is  so  obvious  that 
none  can  have  failed  to  realise  it)  is  lived  by  every 
one  of  us  before  death  as  well  as  after  it,  and  is 
little  less  important  to  us  than  that  of  which  we 
are  to  some  extent  conscious  in  our  own  persons. 
A  man,  we  will  say,  has  written  a  book  which 
delights  or  displeases  thousands  of  whom  he  knows 
nothing,  and  who  know  nothing  of  him.  The 
book,  we  will  suppose,  has  considerable,  or  at  any 
rate  some  influence  on  the  action  of  these  people. 
Let  us  suppose  the  writer  fast  asleep  while  others 
are  enjoying  his  work,  and  acting  in  consequence  of 

131 


Erewhon  Revisited 

it,  perhaps  at  long  distances  from  him.  Which  is 
his  truest  Hfe — the  one  he  is  leading  in  them,  or 
that  equally  unconscious  life  residing  in  his  own 
sleeping  body  ?  Can  there  be  a  doubt  that  the 
vicarious  life  is  the  more  efficient  ? 

"  Or  when  we  are  waking,  how  powerfully  does 
not  the  life  we  are  living  in  others  pain  or  delight 
us,  according  as  others  think  ill  or  well  of  us  ? 
How  truly  do  we  not  recognise  it  as  part  of  our 
own  existence,  and  how  great  an  influence  does  not 
the  fear  of  a  present  hell  in  men's  bad  thoughts, 
and  the  hope  of  a  present  heaven  in  their  good 
ones,  influence  our  own  conduct  ?  Have  we  not 
here  a  true  heaven  and  a  true  hell,  as  compared 
with  the  efficiency  of  which  these  gross  material 
ones  so  falsely  engrafted  on  to  the  Sunchild's 
teaching  are  but  as  the  flint  implements  of  a 
prehistoric  race  ?  '  If  a  man,'  said  the  Sunchild, 
'fear  not  man,  whom  he  hath  seen,  neither  will 
he  fear  God,  whom  he  hath  not  seen.'  " 

My  father  again  assures  me  that  he  never  said 
this.     Returning  to  Dr.  Gurgoyle,  he  continued  : — 

"  It  may  be  urged  that  on  a  man's  death  one  of 
the  great  factors  of  his  life  is  so  annihilated  that 
no  kind  of  true  life  can  be  any  further  conceded 
to  him.  For  to  live  is  to  be  influenced,  as  well  as 
to  influence ;  and  when  a  man  is  dead  how  can 
he  be  influenced  ?  He  can  haunt,  but  he  cannot 
any  more  be  haunted.  He  can  come  to  us,  but 
we  cannot  go  to  him.  On  ceasing,  therefore,  to  be 
impressionable,  so  great  a  part  of  that  wherein  his 

132 


Vicarious  Existence 


life  consisted  is  removed,  that  no  true  life  can  be 
conceded  to  him. 

"  I  do  not  pretend  that  a  man  is  as  fully  alive 
after  his  so-called  death  as  before  it.  He  is  not. 
All  I  contend  for  is,  that  a  considerable  amount 
of  efficient  life  still  remains  to  some  of  us,  and 
that  a  little  life  remains  to  all  of  us,  after  what  we 
commonly  regard  as  the  complete  cessation  of  life. 
In  answer,  then,  to  those  who  have  just  urged  that 
the  destruction  of  one  of  the  two  great  factors  of  life 
destroys  life  altogether,  I  reply  that  the  same  must 
hold  good  as  regards  death. 

"  If  to  live  is  to  be  influenced  and  to  influence, 
and  if  a  man  cannot  be  held  as  living  when  he 
can  no  longer  be  influenced,  surely  to  die  is  to  be 
no  longer  able  either  to  influence  or  be  influenced, 
and  a  man  cannot  be  held  dead  until  both  these 
two  factors  of  death  are  present.  If  failure  of  the 
power  to  be  influenced  vitiates  life,  presence  of 
the  power  to  influence  vitiates  death.  And  no 
one  will  deny  that  a  man  can  influence  for  many 
a  long  year  after  he  is  vulgarly  reputed  as  dead. 

"  It  seems,  then,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
either  absolute  life  without  any  alloy  of  death,  nor 
absolute  death  without  any  alloy  of  life,  until,  that 
is  to  say,  all  posthumous  power  to  influence  has 
faded  away.  And  this,  perhaps,  is  what  the  Sun- 
child  meant  by  saying  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we 
are  in  death,  and  so  also  that  in  the  midst  of  death 
we  are  in  life. 

"And  there  is  this,  too.     No  man  can  influence 
133 


Erewhon   Revisited 

fully  until  he  can  no  more  be  influenced — that  is 
to  say,  till  after  his  so-called  death.  Till  then,  his 
'  he '  is  still  unsettled.  We  know  not  what  other  in- 
fluences may  not  be  brought  to  bear  upon  him  that 
may  change  the  character  of  the  influence  he  will 
exert  on  ourselves.  Therefore,  he  is  not  fully  living 
till  he  is  no  longer  living.  He  is  an  incomplete 
work,  which  cannot  have  full  effect  till  finished. 
And  as  for  his  vicarious  life — which  we  have  seen 
to  be  very  real — this  can  be,  and  is,  influenced  by 
just  appreciation,  undue  praise  or  calumny,  and  is 
subject,  it  may  be,  to  secular  vicissitudes  of  good 
and  evil  fortune. 

"  If  this  is  not  true,  let  us  have  no  more  talk 
about  the  immortality  of  great  men  and  women. 
The  Sunchild  was  never  weary  of  talking  to  us 
(as  we  then  sometimes  thought,  a  little  tediously) 
about  a  great  poet  of  that  nation  to  which  it  pleased 
him  to  feign  that  he  belonged.  How  plainly  can 
we  not  now  see  that  his  words  were  spoken  for 
our  learning — for  the  enforcement  of  that  true 
view  of  heaven  and  hell  on  which  I  am  feebly 
trying  to  insist  ?  The  poet's  name,  he  said,  was 
Shakespeare.  Whilst  he  was  alive,  very  few  people 
understood  his  greatness  ;  whereas  now,  after  some 
three  hundred  years,  he  is  deemed  the  greatest  poet 
that  the  world  has  ever  known.  'Can  this  man,'  he 
asked,  'be  said  to  have  been  truly  born  till  many 
a  long  year  after  he  had  been  reputed  as  truly 
dead?  While  he  was  in  the  flesh,  was  he  more 
than  a  mere  embryo  growing  towards  birth  into 

134 


Vicarious  Existence 

that  life  of  the  world  to  come  in  which  he  now 
shines  so  gloriously  ?  What  a  small  thing  was 
that  flesh  and  blood  life,  of  which  he  was  alone 
conscious,  as  compared  with  that  fleshless  life 
which  he  lives  but  knows  not  in  the  lives  of 
millions,  and  which,  had  it  ever  been  fully  re- 
vealed even  to  his  imagination,  we  may  be  sure 
that  he  could  not  have  reached?' 

"These  were  the  Sunchild's  words,  as  repeated 
to  me  by  one  of  his  chosen  friends  while  he  was 
yet  amongst  us.  Which,  then,  of  this  man's  two 
lives  should  we  deem  best  worth  having,  if  we 
could  choose  one  or  other,  but  not  both  ?  The 
felt  or  the  unfelt  ?  Who  would  not  go  cheerfully 
to  block  or  stake  if  he  knew  that  by  doing  so  he 
could  win  such  life  as  this  poet  lives,  though  he 
also  knew  that  on  having  won  it  he  could  know 
no  more  about  it  ?  Does  not  this  prove  that  in 
our  heart  of  hearts  we  deem  an  unfelt  life,  in  the 
heaven  of  men's  loving  thoughts,  to  be  better  worth 
having  than  any  we  can  reasonably  hope  for  and 
still  feel  ? 

"  And  the  converse  of  this  is  true  ;  many  a  man 
has  unhesitatingly  laid  down  his  felt  life  to  escape 
unfelt  infamy  in  the  hell  of  men's  hatred  and  con- 
tempt. As  body  is  the  sacrament,  or  outward 
and  visible  sign,  of  mind ;  so  is  posterity  the  sacra- 
ment of  those  who  live  after  death.  Each  is 
the  mechanism  through  which  the  other  becomes 
effective. 

"  I  grant  that  many  live  but  a  short  time  when 
135 


Erewhon   Revisited 

the  breath  is  out  of  them.     Few  seeds  germinate 

as  compared  with  those  that  rot  or  are  eaten,  and 

most  of  this  world's  denizens  are  Httle  more  than 

still-born  as  regards  the  larger  life,  while  none  are 

immortal  to  the  end  of  time.     But  the  end  of  time 

is  not  worth  considering ;  not  a  few  live  as  many 

centuries  as  either  they  or  we  need  think  about, 

and  surely  the  world,  so  far  as  we  can  guess  its 

object,  was  made  rather  to  be  enjoyed  than  to  last. 

'  Come  and  go '  pervades  all  things  of   which  we 

have  knowledge,  and  if  there  was   any  provision 

made,  it  seems  to  have  been  for  a  short  life  and 

a   merry   one,  with    enough   chance   of   extension 

beyond  the  grave  to  be  worth  trying   for,  rather 

than    for    the    perpetuity   even    of    the   best  and 

noblest. 

"  Granted,   again,    that   few   live   after   death  as 

long  or  as  fully  as  they  had  hoped  to  do,  while 

many,  when    quick,  can   have  had   none   but  the 

faintest  idea  of  the  immortality  that  awaited  them ; 

it  is  nevertheless  true  that  none  are  so   still-born 

on  death  as  not  to  enter  into  a  life  of  some  sort, 

however  short  and  humble,     A  short  life  or  a  long 

one  can  no  more  be  bargained  for  in  the  unseen 

world  than  in  the  seen  ;  as,  however,  care  on  the 

part  of  parents  can  do  much  for  the  longer  life 

and   greater  well-being  of   their   offspring   in  this 

world,    so   the   conduct   of   that   offspring   in  this 

world  does  much  both  to  secure  for  itself  longer 

tenure  of  life  in  the  next,  and  to  determine  whether 

that  life  shall  be  one  of  reward  or  punishment. 

136 


Vicarious  Existence 


" '  Reward  or  punishment/  some  reader  will  per- 
haps exclaim  ;  '  what  mockery,  when  the  essence 
of  reward  and  punishment  lies  in  their  being  felt 
by  those  who  have  earned  them.'  I  can  do  nothing 
with  those  who  either  cry  for  the  moon,  or  deny 
that  it  has  two  sides,  on  the  ground  that  we  can 
see  but  one.  Here  comes  in  faith,  of  which  the 
Sunchild  said,  that  though  we  can  do  little  with 
it,  we  can  do  nothing  without  it.  Faith  does  not 
consist,  as  some  have  falsely  urged,  in  believing 
things  on  insufficient  evidence  ;  this  is  not  faith, 
but  faithlessness  to  all  that  we  should  hold  most 
faithfully.  Faith  consists  in  holding  that  the  in- 
stincts of  the  best  men  and  women  are  in  them- 
selves an  evidence  which  may  not  be  set  aside 
lightly ;  and  the  best  men  and  women  have  ever 
held  that  death  is  better  than  dishonour,  and 
desirable  if  honour  is  to  be  won  thereby. 

"It  follows,  then,  that  though  our  conscious 
flesh  and  blood  life  is  the  only  one  that  we  can 
fully  apprehend,  yet  we  do  also  indeed  move,  even 
here,  in  an  unseen  world,  wherein,  when  our 
palpable  life  is  ended,  we  shall  continue  to  live 
for  a  shorter  or  longer  time — reaping  roughly, 
though  not  infallibly,  much  as  we  have  sown. 
Of  this  unseen  world  the  best  men  and  women 
will  be  almost  as  heedless  while  in  the  flesh  as 
they  will  be  when  their  life  in  flesh  is  over  ;  for, 
as  the  Sunchild  often  said,  'The  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  cometh  not  by  observation.'  It  will  be 
all  in  all  to  them,  and  at  the  same  time  nothing, 


U7 


Erewhon   Revisited 

for  the  better  people  they  are,  the  less  they  will 
think  of  anything  but  this  present  life. 

"What  an  ineffable  contradiction  in  terms  have 
we  not  here.  What  a  reversal,  is  it  not,  of  all 
this  world's  canons,  that  we  should  hold  even  the 
best  of  all  that  we  can  know  or  feel  in  this  life 
to  be  a  poor  thing  as  compared  with  hopes  the 
fulfilment  of  which  we  can  never  either  feel  or 
know.  Yet  we  all  hold  this,  however  little  we 
may  admit  it  to  ourselves.  For  the  world  at  heart 
despises  its  own  canons." 

I  cannot  quote  further  from  Dr.  Gurgoyle's  pam- 
phlet ;  suffice  it  that  he  presently  dealt  with  those 
who  say  that  it  is  not  right  of  any  man  to  aim 
at  thrusting  himself  in  among  the  living  when  he 
has  had  his  day.  "  Let  him  die,"  say  they,  "  and 
let  die  as  his  fathers  before  him."  He  argued  that 
as  we  had  a  right  to  pester  people  till  we  got  our- 
selves born,  so  also  we  have  a  right  to  pester 
them  for  extension  of  life  beyond  the  grave.  Life, 
whether  before  the  grave  or  afterwards,  is  like  love 
— all  reason  is  against  it,  and  all  healthy  instinct 
for  it.  Instinct  on  such  matters  is  the  older  and 
safer  guide  ;  no  one,  therefore,  should  seek  to  efface 
himself  as  regards  the  next  world  more  than  as 
regards  this.  If  he  is  to  be  effaced,  let  others  efface 
him  ;  do  not  let  him  commit  suicide.  Freely  we 
have  received  ;  freely,  therefore,  let  us  take  as  much 
more  as  we  can  get,  and  let  it  be  a  stand-up  fight 
between  ourselves  and  posterity  to  see  whether  it 

can  get  rid  of  us  or  no.     If   it  can,  let  it ;  if   it 

138 


Vicarious  Existence 

cannot,  it  must  put  up  with  us.  It  can  better  care 
for  itself  than  we  can  for  ourselves  when  the  breath 
is  out  of  us. 

Not  the  least  important  duty,  he  continued,  of 
posterity  towards  itself  lies  in  passing  righteous 
judgement  on  the  forbears  who  stand  up  before  it. 
They  should  be  allowed  the  benefit  of  a  doubt,  and 
peccadilloes  should  be  ignored ;  but  when  no 
doubt  exists  that  a  man  was  engrainedly  mean  and 
cowardly,  his  reputation  must  remain  in  the  Pur- 
gatory of  Time  for  a  term  varying  from,  say,  a 
hundred  to  two  thousand  years.  After  a  hundred 
years  it  may  generally  come  down,  though  it  will 
still  be  under  a  cloud.  After  two  thousand  years  it 
may  be  mentioned  in  any  society  without  holding 
up  of  hands  in  horror.  Our  sense  of  moral  guilt 
varies  inversely  as  the  squares  of  its  distance  in 
time  and  space  from  ourselves. 

Not  so  with  heroism  ;  this  loses  no  lustre  through 
time  and  distance.  Good  is  gold ;  it  is  rare,  but 
it  will  not  tarnish.  Evil  is  like  dirty  water — 
plentiful  and  foul,  but  it  will  run  itself  clear  of 
taint. 

The  Doctor  having  thus  expatiated  on  his  own 
opinions  concerning  heaven  and  hell,  concluded 
by  tilting  at  those  which  all  right-minded  people 
hold  among  ourselves.  I  shall  adhere  to  my  deter- 
mination not  to  reproduce  his  arguments  ;  suffice 
it  that  though  less  flippant  than  those  of  the  young 
student  whom  I  have  already  referred  to,  they  were 
more  plausible  ;  and  though  I  could  easily  demolish 

139 


Erewhon   Revisited 

them,  the  reader  will  probably  prefer  that  I  should 
not  set  them  up  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  knock- 
ing them  down.  Here,  then,  I  take  my  leave  of 
good  Dr.  Gurgoyle  and  his  pamphlet ;  neither  can 
I  interrupt  my  story  further  by  saying  anything 
about  the  other  two  pamphlets  purchased  by  my 
father. 


CHAPTER  XII 

GEORGE   FAILS  TO   FIND   MY   FATHER,   WHEREON 
YRAM  CAUTIONS  THE   PROFESSORS 

On  the  morning  after  the  interview  with  her  son 
described  in  a  foregoing  chapter,  Yram  told  her 
husband  what  she  had  gathered  from  the  Pro- 
fessors, and  said  that  she  was  expecting  Higgs 
every  moment,  inasmuch  as  she  was  confident  that 
George  would  soon  find  him. 

"  Do  what  you  hke,  my  dear,"  said  the  Mayor. 
"  I  shall  keep  out  of  the  way,  for  you  will  manage 
him  better  without  me.  You  know  what  I  think 
of  you." 

He  then  went  unconcernedly  to  his  breakfast, 
at  which  the  Professors  found  him  somewhat  taci- 
turn. Indeed  they  set  him  down  as  one  of  the 
dullest  and  most  uninteresting  people  they  had 
ever  met. 

When  George  returned  and  told  his  mother  that 
though  he  had  at  last  found  the  inn  at  which  my 
father  had  slept,  my  father  had  left  and  could  not 
be  traced,  she  was  disconcerted,  but  after  a  few 
minutes  she  said — 

"  He  will   come   back  here   for  the   dedication, 

but  there  will  be  such  crowds  that  we  may  not  see 

him  till  he  is  inside  the  temple,  and  it  will  save 

141 


Erewhon   Revisited 

trouble  if  we  can  lay  hold  on  him  sooner.  There- 
fore, ride  either  to  Clearwater  or  Fairmead,  and 
see  if  you  can  find  him.  Try  Fairmead  first ;  it  is 
more  out  of  the  way.  If  you  cannot  hear  of  him 
there,  come  back,  get  another  horse,  and  try  Clear- 
water. If  you  fail  here  too,  we  must  give  him  up, 
and  look  out  for  him  in  the  temple  to-morrow 
morning." 

"Are  you  going  to  say  anything  to  the  Pro- 
fessors ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  can  bring  Higgs  here  before  night- 
fall. If  you  cannot  do  this  I  must  talk  it  over  with 
my  husband  ;  I  shall  have  some  hours  in  which 
to  make  up  my  mind.  Now  go — the  sooner  the 
better." 

It  was  nearly  eleven,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
George  was  on  his  way.  By  noon  he  was  at  Fair- 
mead, where  he  tried  all  the  inns  in  vain  for  news 
of  a  person  answering  the  description  of  my  father 
— for  not  knowing  what  name  my  father  might 
choose  to  give,  he  could  trust  only  to  description. 
He  concluded  that  since  my  father  could  not  be 
heard  of  in  Fairmead  by  one  o'clock  (as  it  nearly 
was  by  the  time  he  had  been  round  all  the  inns) 
he  must  have  gone  somewhere  else  ;  he  therefore 
rode  back  to  Sunch'ston,  made  a  hasty  lunch,  got 
a  fresh  horse,  and  rode  to  Clearwater,  where  he 
met  with  no  better  success.  At  all  the  inns  both 
at  Fairmead  and  Clearwater  he  left  word  that  if 
the  person  he  had  described  came  later  in  the  day, 

he  was  to  be  told  that  the  Mayoress  particularly 

14a 


A  Vain  Search 


begged  him  to  return  at  once  to  Sunch'ston,  and 
come  to  the  Mayor's  house. 

Now  all  the  time  that  George  was  at  Fairmead 
my  father  was  inside  the  Musical  Bank,  which  he 
had  entered  before  going  to  any  inn.  Here  he  had 
been  sitting  for  nearly  a  couple  of  hours,  resting, 
dreaming,  and  reading  Bishop  Gurgoyle's  pamphlet. 
If  he  had  left  the  Bank  five  minutes  earlier,  he 
would  probably  have  been  seen  by  George  in  the 
main  street  of  Fairmead — as  he  found  out  on  reach- 
ing the  inn  which  he  selected  and  ordering  dinner. 

He  had  hardly  got  inside  the  house  before  the 
waiter  told  him  that  young  Mr.  Strong,  the  Ranger 
from  Sunch'ston,  had  been  enquiring  for  him  and 
had  left  a  message  for  him,  which  was  duly  de- 
livered. 

My  father,  though  in  reality  somewhat  disquieted, 
showed  no  uneasiness,  and  said  how  sorry  he  was 
to  have  missed  seeing  Mr.  Strong.  "But,"  he  added, 
"  it  does  not  much  matter  ;  I  need  not  go  back  this 
afternoon,  for  I  shall  be  at  Sunch'ston  to-morrow 
morning  and  will  go  straight  to  the  Mayor's." 

He  had  no  suspicion  that  he  was  discovered,  but 
he  was  a  good  deal  puzzled.  Presently  he  inclined 
to  the  opinion  that  George,  still  believing  him  to  be 
Professor  Panky,  had  wanted  to  invite  him  to  the 
banquet  on  the  following  day — for  he  had  no  idea 
that  Hanky  and  Panky  were  staying  with  the  Mayor 
and  Mayoress.  Or  perhaps  the  Mayor  and  his  wife 
did  not  like  so  distinguished  a  man's  having  been 
unable  to  find  a  lodging  in  Sunch'ston,  and  wanted 

143 


Erewhon  Revisited 

him  to  stay  with  them.  Ill  satisfied  as  he  was  with 
any  theory  he  could  form,  he  nevertheless  reflected 
that  he  could  not  do  better  than  stay  where  he  was 
for  the  night,  inasmuch  as  no  one  would  be  likely 
to  look  for  him  a  second  time  at  Fairmead.  He 
therefore  ordered  his  room  at  once. 

It  was  nearly  seven  before  George  got  back  to 
Sunch'ston.  In  the  meantime  Yram  and  the  Mayor 
had  considered  the  question  whether  anything  was 
to  be  said  to  the  Professors  or  no.  They  were  con- 
fident that  my  father  would  not  commit  himself — 
why,  indeed,  should  he  have  dyed  his  hair  and 
otherwise  disguised  himself,  if  he  had  not  intended 
to  remain  undiscovered  ?  Oh  no  ;  the  probability 
was  that  if  nothing  was  said  to  the  Professors  now, 
nothing  need  ever  be  said,  for  my  father  might  be 
escorted  back  to  the  statues  by  George  on  the  Sun- 
day evening  and  be  told  that  he  was  not  to  return. 
Moreover,  even  though  something  untoward  were 
to  happen  after  all,  the  Professors  would  have  no 
reason  for  thinking  that  their  hostess  had  known  of 
the  Sunchild's  being  in  Sunch'ston. 

On  the  other  hand,  they  were  her  guests,  and  it 
would  not  be  handsome  to  keep  Hanky,  at  any 
rate,  in  the  dark,  when  the  knowledge  that  the  Sun- 
child  was  listening  to  every  word  he  said  might 
make  him  modify  his  sermon  not  a  little.  It  might 
or  it  might  not,  but  that  was  a  matter  for  him,  not 
her.  The  only  question  for  her  was  whether  or  no 
it  would  be  sharp  practice  to  know  what  she  knew 

and   say  nothing  about   it.      Her   husband   hated 

144 


A  Vain  Search 


finesse  as  much  as  she  did,  and  they  settled  it  that 
though  the  question  was  a  nice  one,  the  more 
proper  thing  to  do  would  be  to  tell  the  Professors 
what  it  might  so  possibly  concern  one  or  both  of 
them  to  know. 

On  George's  return  without  news  of  my  father, 
they  found  he  thought  just  as  they  did  ;  so  it  was 
arranged  that  they  should  let  the  Professors  dine  in 
peace,  but  tell  them  about  the  Sunchild's  being 
again  in  Erewhon  as  soon  as  dinner  was  over. 

"  Happily,"  said  George,  "they  will  do  no  harm. 
They  will  wish  Higgs's  presence  to  remain  unknown 
as  much  as  we  do,  and  they  will  be  glad  that  he 
should  be  got  out  of  the  country  immediately." 

"Not  so,  my  dear,"  said  Yram.  "'Out  of  the 
country'  will  not  do  for  those  people.  Nothing 
short  of  'out  of  the  world'  will  satisfy  them." 

"  That,"  said  George  promptly,  "  must  not  be." 

"Certainly  not,  my  dear,  but  that  is  what  they 
will  want.  I  do  not  like  having  to  tell  them,  but  I 
am  afraid  we  must." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  Mayor,  laughing.  "  Tell 
them,  and  let  us  see  what  happens." 

They  then  dressed  for  dinner,  where  Hanky  and 
Panky  were  the  only  guests.  When  dinner  was 
over  Yram  sent  away  her  other  children,  George 
alone  remaining.  He  sat  opposite  the  Professors, 
while  the  Mayor  and  Yram  were  at  the  two  ends  of 
the  table. 

"  I  am  afraid,  dear  Professor  Hanky,"  said  Yram, 
"that  I  was  not  quite  open  with  you  last  night,  but 

145  K 


Erewhon   Revisited 

I  wanted  time  to  think  things  over,  and  I  know  you 
will  forgive  me  when  you  remember  what  a  number 
of  guests  I  had  to  attend  to."  She  then  referred  to 
what  Hanky  had  told  her  about  the  supposed  ranger, 
and  shewed  him  how  obvious  it  was  that  this  man 
was  a  foreigner,  who  had  been  for  some  time  in 
Erewhon  more  than  seventeen  years  ago,  but  had 
had  no  communication  with  it  since  then.  Having 
pointed  sufficiently,  as  she  thought,  to  the  Sunchild, 
she  said,  "  You  see  who  I  believe  this  man  to  have 
been.     Have  I  said  enough,  or  shall  I  say  more  ?" 

"I  understand  you,"  said  Hanky,  "and  I  agree 
with  you  that  the  Sunchild  will  be  in  the  temple  to- 
morrow. It  is  a  serious  business,  but  I  shall  not 
alter  my  sermon.  He  must  listen  to  what  I  may 
choose  to  say,  and  I  wish  I  could  tell  him  what  a 
fool  he  was  for  coming  here.  If  he  behaves  himself, 
well  and  good  :  your  son  will  arrest  him  quietly 
after  service,  and  by  night  he  will  be  in  the  Blue 
Pool.  Your  son  is  bound  to  throw  him  there  as  a 
foreign  devil,  without  the  formality  of  a  trial.  It 
would  be  a  most  painful  duty  to  me,  but  unless  I 
am  satisfied  that  that  man  has  been  thrown  into  the 
Blue  Pool,  I  shall  have  no  option  but  to  report  the 
matter  at  headquarters.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  poor  wretch  makes  a  disturbance,  I  can  set 
the  crowd  on  to  tear  him  in  pieces." 

George  was  furious,  but  he  remained  quite  calm, 
and  left  everything  to  his  mother. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Blue  Pool,"  said 

Yram  drily.     "  My  son,  I  doubt  not,  will  know  how 

146 


Yram  Warns  Hanky 

to  do  his  duty  ;  but  if  you  let  the  people  kill  this 
man,  his  body  will  remain,  and  an  inquest  must  be 
held,  for  the  matter  will  have  been  too  notorious  to 
be  hushed  up.  All  Higgs's  measurements  and  all 
marks  on  his  body  were  recorded,  and  these  alone 
■would  identify  him.  My  father,  too,  who  is  still 
master  of  the  gaol,  and  many  another,  could  swear 
to  him.  Should  the  body  prove,  as  no  doubt  it 
would,  to  be  that  of  the  Sunchild,  what  is  to  become 
of  Sunchildism  ?  " 

Hanky  smiled.  "  It  would  not  be  proved.  The 
measurements  of  a  man  of  twenty  or  thereabouts 
would  not  correspond  with  this  man's.  All  we 
Professors  should  attend  the  inquest,  and  half 
Bridgeford  is  now  in  Sunch'ston.  No  matter 
though  nine -tenths  of  the  marks  and  measure- 
ments corresponded,  so  long  as  there  is  a  tenth 
that  does  not  do  so,  we  should  not  be  flesh  and 
blood  if  we  did  not  ignore  the  nine  points  and 
insist  only  on  the  tenth.  After  twenty  years  we 
shall  find  enough  to  serve  our  turn.  Think  of 
what  all  the  learning  of  the  country  is  committed 
to ;  think  of  the  change  in  all  our  ideas  and  insti- 
tutions ;  think  of  the  King  and  of  Court  influence. 
I  need  not  enlarge.  We  shall  not  permit  the  body 
to  be  the  Sunchild's.  No  matter  what  evidence 
you  may  produce,  we  shall  sneer  it  down,  and  say 
we  must  have  more  before  you  can  expect  us  to 
take  you  seriously ;  if  you  bring  more,  we  shall  pay 
no  attention  ;  and  the  more  you  bring  the  more  we 
shall  laugh  at  you.     No  doubt  those  among  us  who 

147 


Erewhon   Revisited 

are  by  way  of  being  candid  will  admit  that  your 
arguments  ought  to  be  considered,  but  you  must 
not  expect  that  it  will  be  any  part  of  their  duty  to 
consider  them. 

"And  even  though  we  admitted  that  the  body 
had  been  proved  up  to  the  hilt  to  be  the  Sunchild's, 
do  you  think  that  such  a  trifle  as  that  could  affect 
Sunchildism  ?  Hardly.  Sunch'ston  is  no  match 
for  Bridgeford  and  the  King ;  our  only  difficulty 
would  lie  in  settling  which  was  the  most  plausible 
way  of  the  many  plausible  ways  in  which  the  death 
could  be  explained.  We  should  hatch  up  twenty 
theories  in  less  than  twenty  hours,  and  the  last  state 
of  Sunchildism  would  be  stronger  than  the  first. 
For  the  people  want  ^'t  nnd  so  long  as  they  want 
it  they  wiii  have  it.  At  the  same  time  the  supposed 
identification  of  the  body,  even  by  some  few  ignorant 
people  here,  might  lead  to  a  local  heresy  that  is  as 
well  avoided,  and  it  will  be  better  that  your  son 
should  arrest  the  man  before  the  dedication,  if  he 
can  be  found,  and  throw  him  into  the  Blue  Pool 
without  any  one  but  ourselves  knowing  that  he  has 
been  here  at  all." 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  deep  disgust  with  which 
this  speech  was  listened  to,  but  the  Mayor,  and 
Yram,  and  George  said  not  a  word. 

"  But,  Mayoress,"  said  Panky,  who  had  not 
opened  his  lips  so  far,  "  are  you  sure  that  you  are 
not  too  hasty  in  believing  this  stranger  to  be  the 
Sunchild  ?  People  are  continually  thinking  that 
such  and  such  another  is  the  Sunchild  come  down 


Yram  Warns  Hanky 

again  from  the  sun's  palace  and  going  to  and  fro 
among  us.  How  many  such  stories,  sometimes 
very  plausibly  told,  have  we  not  had  during  the  last 
twenty  years  ?  They  never  take  root,  and  die  out  of 
themselves  as  suddenly  as  they  spring  up.  That 
the  man  is  a  poacher  can  hardly  be  doubted  ;  I 
thought  so  the  moment  I  saw  him  ;  but  I  think  I 
can  also  prove  to  you  that  he  is  not  a  foreigner, 
and,  therefore,  that  he  is  not  the  Sunchild.  He 
quoted  the  Sunchild's  prayer  with  a  corruption 
that  can  have  only  reached  him  from  an  Ere- 
whonian  source " 

Here  Hanky  interrupted  him  somewhat  brusquely. 

"  The  man,  Panky,"  said  he,  "  was  the  Sunchild  ; 
and  he  was  not  a  poacher,  for  he  had  no  idea  that 
he  was  breaking  the  law ;  nevertheless,  as  you  say, 
Sunchildism  on  the  brain  has  been  a  common  form 
of  mania  for  several  years.  Several  persons  have 
even  believed  themselves  to  be  the  Sunchild.  We 
must  not  forget  this,  if  it  should  get  about  that 
Higgs  has  been  here." 

Then,  turning  to  Yram,  he  said  sternly,  "  But 
come  what  may,  your  son  must  take  him  to  the 
Blue  Pool  at  nightfall." 

"  Sir,"  said  George,  with  perfect  suavity,  "  you 
have  spoken  as  though  you  doubted  my  readiness 
to  do  my  duty.  Let  me  assure  you  very  solemnly 
that  when  the  time  comes  for  me  to  act,  I  shall  act 
as  duty  may  direct." 

"  I  will  answer  for  him,"  said  Yram,  with  even 

more  than  her  usual  quick,  frank  smile,  "that  he 

149 


Erewhon  Revisited 

will  fulfil  his  instructions  to  the  letter,  unless,"  she 
added,  "  some  black  and  white  horses  come  down 
from  heaven  and  snatch  poor  Higgs  out  of  his 
grasp.     Such  things  have  happened  before  now." 

"  I  should  advise  your  son  to  shoot  them  if  they 
do,"  said  Hanky  drily  and  sub-defiantly. 

Here  the  conversation  closed  ;  but  it  was  useless 
trying  to  talk  of  anything  else,  so  the  Professors 
asked  Yram  to  excuse  them  if  they  retired  early,  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  they  had  a  fatiguing  day  before 
them.     This  excuse  their  hostess  readily  accepted. 

"  Do  not  let  us  talk  any  more  now,"  said  Yram 
as  soon  as  they  had  left  the  room.  "  It  will  be 
quite  time  enough  when  the  dedication  is  over. 
But  I  rather  think  the  black  and  white  horses  will 
come." 

"  I  think  so  too,  my  dear,"  said  the  Mayor 
laughing. 

"  They  shall  come,"  said  George  gravely  ;  "  but 
we  have  not  yet  got  enough  to  make  sure  of  bring- 
ing them.  Higgs  will  perhaps  be  able  to  help  me 
to-morrow." 

"  Now  what,"  said  Panky  as  they  went  upstairs, 
"does  that  woman  mean — for  she  means  some- 
thing ?     Black  and  white  horses  indeed  !  " 

"  I  do  not  know  what  she  means  to  do,"  said 
the  other,  "  but  I  know  that  she  thinks  she  can 
best  us." 

"  I  wish  we  had  not  eaten  those  quails." 

"  Nonsense,  Panky  ;  no  one  saw  us  but  Higgs, 
150 


Yram  Warns  Hanky 

and  the  evidence  of  a  foreign  devil,  in  such  straits 
as  his,  could  not  stand  for  a  moment.  We  did  not 
eat  them.  No,  no  ;  she  has  something  that  she 
thinks  better  than  that.  Besides,  it  is  absolutely 
impossible  that  she  should  have  heard  what  hap- 
pened. What  I  do  not  understand  is,  why  she 
should  have  told  us  about  the  Sunchild's  being 
here  at  all.  Why  not  have  left  us  to  find  it  out  or 
to  know  nothing  about  it  ?     I  do  not  understand  it." 

So  true  is  it,  as  Euclid  long  since  observed,  that 
the  less  cannot  comprehend  that  which  is  the 
greater.  True,  however,  as  this  is,  it  is  also  some- 
times true  that  the  greater  cannot  comprehend  the 
less.  Hanky  went  musing  to  his  own  room  and 
threw  himself  into  an  easy  chair  to  think  the  posi- 
tion over.  After  a  few  minutes  he  went  to  a  table 
on  which  he  saw  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  and  wrote  a 
short  letter  ;  then  he  rang  the  bell. 

When  the  servant  came  he  said,  "  I  want  to  send 
this  note  to  the  manager  of  the  new  temple,  and  it 
is  important  that  he  should  have  it  to-night.  Be 
pleased,  therefore,  to  take  it  to  him  and  deliver  it 
into  his  own  hands ;  but  I  had  rather  you  said 
nothing  about  it  to  the  Mayor  or  Mayoress,  nor  to 
any  of  your  fellow-servants.  Slip  out  unperceived 
if  you  can.  When  you  have  delivered  the  note,  ask 
for  an  answer  at  once,  and  bring  it  to  me." 

So  saying,  he  slipped  a  sum  equal  to  about  five 
shillings  into  the  man's  hand. 

The  servant  returned  in  about  twenty  minutes, 
for  the  temple  was  quite  near,  and  gave  a  note  to 


Erewhon   Revisited 

Hanky,  which  ran,  "  Your  wishes  shall  be  attended 
to  without  fail." 

"Good '."said  Hanky  to  the  man.  "No  one  in 
the  house  knows  of  your  having  run  this  errand 
for  me  ?  " 

"  No  one,  sir." 

"Thank  you  !     I  wish  you  a  very  good  night." 


I  52 


CHAPTER   XIII 

A  VISIT   TO   THE   PROVINCIAL   DEFORMATORY 
AT   FAIRMEAD 

Having  finished  his  early  dinner,  and  not  fearing 
that  he  should  be  either  recognised  at  Fairmead 
or  again  enquired  after  from  Sunch'ston,  my  father 
went  out  for  a  stroll  round  the  town,  to  see  what 
else  he  could  find  that  should  be  new  and  strange 
to  him.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  saw  a 
large  building  with  an  inscription  saying  that  it  was 
the  Provincial  Deformatory  for  Boys.  Underneath 
the  larger  inscription  there  was  a  smaller  one — one 
of  those  corrupt  versions  of  my  father's  sayings, 
which,  on  dipping  into  the  Sayings  of  the  Sunchild, 
he  had  found  to  be  so  vexatiously  common.  The 
inscription  ran  : — 

"When  the  righteous  man  turneth  away  from  the 
righteousness  that  he  hath  committed,  and  doeth  that 
which  is  a  little  naughty  and  wrong,  he  will  generally  be 
found  to  have  gained  in  amiability  what  he  has  lost  in 
righteousness." — Sunchild  Sayings,  chap.  xxii.  v.  15. 

The  case  of  the  little  girl  that  he  had  watched 
earlier  in  the  day  had  filled  him  with  a  great  desire 
to  see  the  working  of  one  of  these  curious  institu- 
tions; he  therefore  resolved  to  call  on  the  head- 
master (whose  name  he  found  to  be  Turvey),  and 

153 


Erewhon  Revisited 

enquire  about  terms,  alleging  that  he  had  a  boy 
whose  incorrigible  rectitude  was  giving  him  much 
anxiety.  The  information  he  had  gained  in  the 
forenoon  would  be  enough  to  save  him  from 
appearing  to  know  nothing  of  the  system.  On 
having  rung  the  bell,  he  announced  himself  to  the 
servant  as  a  Mr.  Senoj,  and  asked  if  he  could  see 
the  Principal. 

Almost  immediately  he  was  ushered  into  the 
presence  of  a  beaming,  dapper-looking,  little  old 
gentleman,  quick  of  speech  and  movement,  in  spite 
of  some  little  portliness. 

"Ts,  ts,  ts,"  he  said,  when  my  father  had  enquired 
about  terms  and  asked  whether  he  might  see  the 
system  at  work.  "How  unfortunate  that  you 
should  have  called  on  a  Saturday  afternoon.  We 
always  have  a  half-holiday.  But  stay — yes — that 
will  do  very  nicely  ;  I  will  send  for  them  into  school 
as  a  means  of  stimulating  their  refractory  system." 

He  called  his  servant  and  told  him  to  ring  the 
boys  into  school.  Then,  turning  to  my  father  he 
said,  "  Stand  here,  sir,  by  the  window ;  you  will 
see  them  all  come  trooping  in.  H'm,  h'm,  I  am 
sorry  to  see  them  still  come  back  as  soon  as  they 
hear  the  bell.  I  suppose  I  shall  ding  some  recalci- 
trancy into  them  some  day,  but  it  is  uphill  work. 
Do  you  see  the  head-boy — the  third  of  those  that 
are  coming  up  the  path  ?  I  shall  have  to  get  rid 
of  him.  Do  you  see  him  ?  he  is  going  back  to  whip 
up  the  laggers — and  now  he  has  boxed  a  boy's  ears  : 
that  boy  is  one  of  the  most  hopeful  under  my  care. 

154 


A  Deformatory 

I  feel  sure  he  has  been  using  improper  language, 
and  my  head-boy  has  checked  him  instead  of  en- 
couraging him."  And  so  on  till  the  boys  were  all 
in  school. 

"You  see,  my  dear  sir,"  he  said  to  my  father, 
"we  are  in  an  impossible  position.  We  have  to 
obey  instructions  from  the  Grand  Council  of 
Education  at  Bridgeford,  and  they  have  established 
these  institutions  in  consequence  of  the  Sunchild's 
having  said  that  we  should  aim  at  promoting  the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number.  This, 
no  doubt,  is  a  sound  principle,  and  the  greatest 
number  are  by  nature  somewhat  dull,  conceited, 
and  unscrupulous.  They  do  not  like  those  who 
are  quick,  unassuming,  and  sincere  ;  how,  then, 
consistently  with  the  first  principles  either  of 
morality  or  political  economy  as  revealed  to  us 
by  the  Sunchild,  can  we  encourage  such  people 
if  we  can  bring  sincerity  and  modesty  fairly  home 
to  them  ?  We  cannot  do  so.  And  we  must  correct 
the  young  as  far  as  possible  from  forming  habits 
which,  unless  indulged  in  with  the  greatest  modera- 
tion, are  sure  to  ruin  them. 

"  I  cannot  pretend  to  consider  myself  very  suc- 
cessful. I  do  my  best,  but  I  can  only  aim  at 
making  my  school  a  reflection  of  the  outside  world. 
In  the  outside  world  we  have  to  tolerate  much 
that  is  prejudicial  to  the  greatest  happiness  of  the 
greatest  number,  partly  because  we  cannot  always 
discover  in  time  who  may  be  let  alone  as  being 
genuinely  insincere,  and  who  are  in  reality  masking 

155 


Erewhon   Revisited 

sincerity  under  a  garb  of  flippancy,  and  partly  also 
because  we  wish  to  err  on  the  side  of  letting  the 
guilty  escape,  rather  than  of  punishing  the  inno- 
cent. Thus  many  people  who  are  perfectly  well 
known  to  belong  to  the  straightforward  classes  are 
allowed  to  remain  at  large,  and  may  be  even  seen 
hobnobbing  with  the  guardians  of  public  im- 
morality. Indeed  it  is  not  in  the  public  interest 
that  straightforwardness  should  be  extirpated  root 
and  branch,  for  the  presence  of  a  small  modicum 
of  sincerity  acts  as  a  wholesome  irritant  to  the 
academicism  of  the  greatest  num^ber,  stimulating 
it  to  consciousness  of  its  own  happy  state,  and 
giving  it  something  to  look  down  upon.  More- 
over, we  hold  it  useful  to  have  a  certain  number 
of  melancholy  examples,  whose  notorious  failure 
shall  serve  as  a  warning  to  those  who  neglect  culti- 
vating that  power  of  immoral  self-control  which 
shall  prevent  them  from  saying,  or  even  thinking, 
anything  that  shall  not  immediately  and  palpably 
minister  to  the  happiness,  and  hence  meet  the  ap- 
proval, of  the  greatest  number." 

By  this  time  the  boys  were  all  in  school.  "There 
is  not  one  prig  in  the  whole  lot,"  said  the  head- 
master sadly.  "  I  wish  there  v^as,  but  only  those 
boys  come  here  who  are  notoriously  too  good  to 
become  current  coin  in  the  world  unless  they  are 
hardened  with  an  alloy  of  vice.  I  should  have 
liked  to  show  you  our  gambling,  book-making, 
ind  speculation  class,  but  the  assistant-master  who 

attends  to  this  branch  of  our  curriculum  is  gone 

156 


A  Deformatory 

to  Sunch'ston  this  afternoon.  He  has  friends  who 
have  asked  him  to  see  the  dedication  of  the  new 
temple,  and  he  will  not  be  back  till  Monday.  I 
really  do  not  know  what  I  can  do  better  for  you 
than  examine  the  boys  in  Counsels  of  Imperfection. 

So  saying,  he  went  into  the  schoolroom,  over 
the  fireplace  of  which  my  father's  eye  caught  an 
inscription,  "  Resist  good,  and  it  will  fly  from  you. 
Sunchild's  Sayings,  xvii.  2."  Then,  taking  down  a 
copy  of  the  work  just  named  from  a  shelf  above 
his  desk,  he  ran  his  eye  over  a  few  of  its  pages. 

He  called  up  a  class  of  about  twenty  boys. 

"  Now,  my  boys,"  he  said,  "  Why  is  it  so  neces- 
sary to  avoid  extremes  of  truthfulness  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  necessary,  sir,"  said  one  youngster, 
"  and  the  man  who  says  that  it  is  so  is  a  scoundrel." 

'*  Come  here,  my  boy,  and  hold  out  your  hand." 
When  he  had  done  so,  Mr.  Turvey  gave  him  two 
sharp  cuts  with  a  cane.  "There  now,  go  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  class  and  try  not  to  be  so 
extremely  truthful  in  future."  Then,  turning  to 
my  father,  he  said,  "  I  hate  caning  them,  but  it  is 
the  only  way  to  teach  them.  I  really  do  believe 
that  boy  will  know  better  than  to  say  what  he 
thinks  another  time." 

He  repeated  his  question  to  the  class,  and  the 
head-boy  answered,  "  Because,  sir,  extremes  meet, 
and  extreme  truth  will  be  mixed  with  extreme 
falsehood." 

"  Quite  right,  my  boy.     Truth  is  like  religion  ;  it 

has  only  two  enemies — the  too  much  and  the  too 

157 


Erewhon   Revisited 

little.  Your  answer  is  more  satisfactory  than  some 
of  your  recent  conduct  had  led  me  to  expect." 

"  But,  sir,  you  punished  me  only  three  weeks  ago 
for  telling  you  a  lie." 

"  Oh  yes  ;  why,  so  I  did ;  I  had  forgotten.  But 
then  you  overdid  it.  Still  it  was  a  step  in  the  right 
direction." 

"And  now,  my  boy,"  he  said  to  a  very  frank  and 
ingenuous  youth  about  half  way  up  the  class,  "  and 
how  is  truth  best  reached  ?  " 

"  Through  the  falling  out  of  thieves,  sir." 

"Quite  so.  Then  it  will  be  necessary  that  the 
more  earnest,  careful,  patient,  self-sacrificing,  en- 
quirers after  truth  should  have  a  good  deal  of  the 
thief  about  them,  though  they  are  very  honest 
people  at  the  same  time.  Now  what  does  the  man  " 
(who  on  enquiry  my  father  found  to  be  none  other 
than  Mr.  Turvey  himself)  "  say  about  honesty  ?  " 

"  He  says,  sir,  that  honesty  does  not  consist  in 
never  stealing,  but  in  knowing  how  and  where  it 
will  be  safe  to  do  so." 

"  Remember,"  said  Mr.  Turvey  to  my  father, 
"  how  necessary  it  is  that  we  should  have  a  plentiful 
supply  of  thieves,  if  honest  men  are  ever  to  come 
by  their  own." 

He  spoke  with  the  utmost  gravity,  evidently  quite 

easy  in  his  mind  that  his  scheme  was  the  only  one 

by   which    truth    could    be    successfully   attained. 

"  But  pray  let  me  have  any  criticism  you  may  feel 

inclined  to  make." 

"  I  have  none,"  said  my  father.     "  Your  system 
158 


A  Deformatory 

commends  itself  to  common  sense  ;  it  is  the  one 
adopted  in  the  law  courts,  and  it  lies  at  the  very 
foundation  of  party  government.  If  your  academic 
bodies  can  supply  the  country  with  a  sufficient 
number  of  thieves — which  I  have  no  doubt  they 
can — there  seems  no  limit  to  the  amount  of  truth 
that  may  be  attained.  If,  however,  I  may  suggest 
the  only  dif^culty  that  occurs  to  me,  it  is  that 
academic  thieves  shew  no  great  alacrity  in  falling 
out,  but  incline  rather  to  back  each  other  up 
through  thick  and  thin." 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Turvey,  "there  is  that 
difficulty  ;  nevertheless  circumstances  from  time 
to  time  arise  to  get  them  by  the  ears  in  spite  of 
themselves.  But  from  whatever  point  of  view  you 
may  look  at  the  question,  it  is  obviously  better  to 
aim  at  imperfection  than  perfection ;  for  if  we 
aim  steadily  at  imperfection,  we  shall  probably 
get  it  within  a  reasonable  time,  whereas  to  the 
end  of  our  days  we  should  never  reach  perfection. 
Moreover,  from  a  worldly  point  of  view,  there  is 
no  mistake  so  great  as  that  of  being  always  right." 
He  then  turned  to  his  class  and  said — 

"And  now  tell  me  what  did  the  Sunchild  tell  us 
about  God  and  Mammon  ?  " 

The  head-boy  answered  :  "  He  said  that  we  must 
serve  both,  for  no  man  can  serve  God  well  and 
truly  who  does  not  serve  Mammon  a  little  also  ; 
and  no  man  can  serve  Mammon  effectually  unless 
he  serve  God  largely  at  the  same  time." 

"  What  were  his  words  ?  " 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"  He  said,  '  Cursed  be  they  that  say,  "Thou  shall 
not  serve  God  and  Mammon,"  for  it  is  the  whole 
duty  of  man  to  know  how  to  adjust  the  conflicting 
claims  of  these  two  deities.'  " 

Here  my  father  interposed.  "  I  knew  the  Sun- 
child  ;  and  I  more  than  once  heard  him  speak  of 
God  and  Mammon.  He  never  varied  the  form  of 
the  words  he  used,  which  were  to  the  effect  that  a 
man  must  serve  either  God  or  Mammon,  but  that 
he  could  not  serve  both." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Mr.  Turvey,  "  that  no  doubt  was  his 
exoteric  teaching,  but  Professors  Hanky  and  Panky 
have  assured  me  most  solemnly  that  his  esoteric 
teaching  was  as  I  have  given  it.  By  the  way,  these 
gentlemen  are  both,  I  understand,  at  Sunch'ston, 
and  I  think  it  quite  likely  that  I  shall  have  a  visit 
from  them  this  afternoon.  If  you  do  not  know 
them  I  should  have  great  pleasure  in  introducing  you 
to  them  ;  I  was  at  Bridgeford  with  both  of  them." 

"  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  them 
already,"  said  my  father,  "and  as  you  are  by  no 
means  certain  that  they  will  come,  I  will  ask  you  to 
let  me  thank  you  for  all  that  you  have  been  good 
enough  to  shew  me,  and  bid  you  good-afternoon. 
I  have  a  rather  pressing  engagement " 

"  My   dear   sir,   you   must   please   give   me   five 

minutes  more.     I  shall   examine   the  boys   in   the 

Musical  Bank  Catechism."     He  pointed  to  one  of 

them  and  said,  "  Repeat  your  duty  towards  your 

neighbour." 

"  My  duty  towards  my  neighbour,"  said  the  boy, 
1 60 


A  Deformatory 

"  is  to  be  quite  sure  that  he  is  not  Hkely  to  borrow 
money  of  me  before  I  let  him  speak  to  me  at  all, 
and  then  to  have  as  little  to  do  with  him  as " 

At  this  point  there  was  a  loud  ring  at  the  door 
bell.  "  Hanky  and  Panky  come  to  see  me,  no 
doubt,"  said  Mr.  Turvey.  "  I  do  hope  it  is  so.  You 
must  stay  and  see  them." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  my  father,  putting  his  handker- 
chief up  to  his  face,  "  I  am  taken  suddenly  unwell  and 
must  positively  leave  you."  He  said  this  in  so  per- 
emptory a  tone  that  Mr.  Turvey  had  to  yield.  My 
father  held  his  handkerchief  to  his  face  as  he  went 
through  the  passage  and  hall,  but  when  the  servant 
opened  the  door  he  took  it  down,  for  there  was  no 
Hanky  or  Panky — no  one, in  fact, but  a  poor,  wizened 
old  man  who  had  come,  as  he  did  every  other  Satur- 
day afternoon,  to  wind  up  the  Deformatory  clocks. 

Nevertheless,  he  had  been  scared,  and  was  in  a 

very  wicked-fieeth-when-no-man-pursueth  frame  of 

mind.     He  went  to  his  inn,  and  shut  himself  up  in 

his  room  for  some  time,  taking  notes  of  all  that  had 

happened  to  him  in  the  last  three  days.    But  even  at 

his  inn  he  no  longer  felt  safe.     How  did  he  know 

but  that  Hanky  and  Panky  might  have  driven  over 

from  Sunch'ston  to  see  Mr.  Turvey,  and  might  put 

up  at  this   very   house  ?    or   they   might   even  be 

going  to  spend  the  night  here.     He  did  not  venture 

out  of  his  room  till  after  seven  by  which  time  he 

had  made  rough  notes  of  as  much  of  the  foregoing 

chapters  as  had   come   to  his  knowledge   so   far. 

Much  of  what  I  have  told  as  nearly  as  I  could  in 

i6i  L 


Erewhon  Revisited 

the  order  in  which  it  happened,  he  did  not  learn  till 
later.  After  giving  the  merest  outline  of  his  inter- 
view with  Mr.  Turvey,  he  wrote  a  note  as  follows  : — 

"I  suppose  I  must  have  held  forth  about  the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number,  but 
I  had  quite  forgotten  it,  though  I  remember  re- 
peatedly quoting  my  favourite  proverb,  *  Every 
man  for  himself,  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost.' 
To  this  they  have  paid  no  attention." 

By  seven  his  panic  about  Hanky  and  Panky 
ended,  for  if  they  had  not  come  by  this  time,  they 
were  not  likely  to  do  so.  Not  knowing  that  they 
were  staying  at  the  Mayor's,  he  had  rather  settled 
it  that  they  would  now  stroll  up  to  the  place  where 
they  had  left  their  hoard  and  bring  it  down  as  soon 
as  night  had  fallen.  And  it  is  quite  possible  that 
they  might  have  found  some  excuse  for  doing  this, 
when  dinner  was  over,  if  their  hostess  had  not 
undesignedly  hindered  them  by  telling  them  about 
the  Sunchild.  When  the  conversation  recorded  in 
the  preceding  chapter  was  over,  it  was  too  late  for 
them  to  make  any  plausible  excuse  for  leaving  the 
house  ;  we  may  be  sure,  therefore,  that  much  more 
had  been  said  than  Yram  and  George  were  able  to 
remember  and  report  to  my  father. 

After  another  stroll  about  Fairmead,  during  which 

he  saw  nothing  but  what  on  a  larger  scale  he  had 

already  seen  at  Sunch'ston,  he  returned  to  his  inn 

at  about  half-past  eight,  and  ordered  supper  in  a 

public  room  that  corresponded  with  the  coffee-room 

of  an  English  hotel. 

162 


CHAPTER  XIV 

my  father  makes  the  acquaintance  of  mr. 
balmy,  and  walks  with  him  next  day  to 
sunch'ston. 

Up  to  this  point,  though  he  had  seen  enough  to 
shew  him  the  main  drift  of  the  great  changes  that 
had  taken  place  in  Erewhonian  opinions,  my  father 
had  not  been  able  to  glean  much  about  the  history 
of  the  transformation.  He  could  see  that  it  had  all 
grown  out  of  the  supposed  miracle  of  his  balloon 
ascent,  and  he  could  understand  that  the  ignorant 
masses  had  been  so  astounded  by  an  event  so  con- 
trary to  all  their  experience,  that  their  faith  in 
experience  was  utterly  routed  and  demoralised.  If 
a  man  and  a  woman  might  rise  from  the  earth  and 
disappear  into  the  sky,  what  else  might  not  happen  ? 
If  they  had  been  wrong  in  thinking  such  a  thing 
impossible,  in  how  much  else  might  they  not  be 
mistaken  also  ?  The  ground  was  shaken  under 
their  very  feet. 

It  was  not  as  though  the  thing  had  been  done 
in  a  corner.  Hundreds  of  people  had  seen  the 
ascent ;  and  even  if  only  a  small  number  had 
been  present,  the  disappearance  of  the  balloon,  of 
my  mother,  and  of  my  father  himself,  would  have 

confirmed    their    story.       My   father,   then,   could 

163 


Erewhon   Revisited 

understand  that  a  single  incontrovertible  miracle 
of  the  first  magnitude  should  uproot  the  hedges  of 
caution  in  the  minds  of  the  common  people,  but  he 
could  not  understand  how  such  men  as  Hanky  and 
Panky,  who  evidently  did  not  believe  that  there  had 
been  any  miracle  at  all,  had  been  led  to  throw 
themselves  so  energetically  into  a  movement  so 
subversive  of  all  their  traditions,  when,  as  it  seemed 
to  him,  if  they  had  held  out  they  might  have  pricked 
the  balloon  bubble  easily  enough,  and  maintained 
everything  in  statu  quo. 

How,  again,  had  they  converted  the  King — if  they 
had  converted  him  ?  The  Queen  had  had  full 
knowledge  of  all  the  preparations  for  the  ascent. 
The  King  had  had  everything  explained  to  him. 
The  workmen  and  workwomen  who  had  made  the 
balloon  and  the  gas  could  testify  that  none  but 
natural  means  had  been  made  use  of — means  which, 
if  again  employed  any  number  of  times,  would 
effect  a  like  result.  How  could  it  be  that  when  the 
means  of  resistance  were  so  ample  and  so  easy,  the 
movement  should  nevertheless  have  been  irresis- 
tible ?  For  had  it  not  been  irresistible,  was  it  to  be 
believed  that  astute  men  like  Hanky  and  Panky 
would  have  let  themselves  be  drawn  into  it  ? 

What  then  had  been  its  inner  history  ?     My  father 

had  so  fully  determined  to  make  his  way  back  on 

the  following  evening,  that  he  saw  no  chance  of 

getting  to  know  the  facts — unless,  indeed,  he  should 

be  able  to  learn  something  from  Hanky's  sermon  ; 

he  was  therefore  not  sorry  to  find  an  elderly  gentle- 

164 


Mr.  Balmy 


man  of  grave  but  kindly  aspect  seated  opposite  to 
him  when  he  sat  down  to  supper. 

The  expression  on  this  man's  face  was  much  like 
that  of  the  early  Christians  as  shewn  in  the  S. 
Giovanni  Laterano  bas-reliefs  at  Rome,  and  again, 
though  less  aggressively  self-confident,  like  that  on 
the  faces  of  those  who  have  joined  the  Salvation 
Army.  If  he  had  been  in  England,  my  father  would 
have  set  him  down  as  a  Swedenborgian  ;  this  being 
impossible,  he  could  only  note  that  the  stranger 
bowed  his  head,  evidently  saying  a  short  grace 
before  he  began  to  eat,  as  my  father  had  always 
done  when  he  was  in  Erewhon  before.  I  will  not 
say  that  my  father  had  never  omitted  to  say  grace 
during  the  whole  of  the  last  twenty  years,  but  he 
said  it  now,  and  unfortunately  forgetting  himself,  he 
said  it  in  the  English  language,  not  loud,  but  never- 
theless  audibly. 

My  father  was  alarmed  at  what  he  had  done,  but 
there  was  no  need,  for  the  stranger  immediately 
said,  *'  I  hear,  sir,  that  you  have  the  gift  of  tongues. 
The  Sunchild  often  mentioned  it  to  us,  as  having 
been  vouchsafed  long  since  to  certain  of  the  people, 
to  whom,  for  our  learning,  he  saw  fit  to  feign  that 
he  belonged.  He  thus  foreshadowed  prophetically 
its  manifestation  also  among  ourselves.  All  which, 
however,  you  must  know  as  well  as  I  do.  Can  you 
interpret  ?" 

My  father  was  much  shocked,  but  he  remem- 
bered having  frequently  spoken    of  the  power  of 

speaking  in  unknown  tongues  which  was  possessed 

165 


Erewhon   Revisited 

by  many  of  the  early  Christians,  and  he  also  re- 
membered that  in  times  of  high  religious  enthusi- 
asm this  power  had  repeatedly  been  imparted,  or 
supposed  to  be  imparted,  to  devout  believers  in  the 
middle  ages.  It  grated  upon  him  to  deceive  one 
who  was  so  obviously  sincere,  but  to  avoid  imme- 
diate discomfiture  he  fell  in  with  what  the  stranger 
had  said. 

"Alas!  sir,"  said  he,  "that  rarer  and  more  pre- 
cious gift  has  been  withheld  from  me  ;  nor  can  I 
speak  in  an  unknown  tongue,  unless  as  it  is  borne 
in  upon  me  at  the  moment.  I  could  not  even  re- 
peat the  words  that  have  just  fallen  from  me." 

"That,"  replied  the  stranger,  "is  almost  invari- 
ably the  case.  These  illuminations  of  the  spirit  are 
beyond  human  control.  You  spoke  in  so  low  a 
tone  that  I  cannot  interpret  what  you  have  just 
said,  but  should  you  receive  a  second  inspiration 
later,  I  shall  doubtless  be  able  to  interpret  it  for  you. 
I  have  been  singularly  gifted  in  this  respect — more 
so,  perhaps,  than  any  other  interpreter  in  Erewhon." 

My  father  mentally  vowed  that  no  second  inspira- 
tion should  be  vouchsafed  to  him,  but  presently 
remembering  how  anxious  he  was  for  information 
on  the  points  touched  upon  at  the  beginning  of  this 
chapter,  and  seeing  that  fortune  had  sent  him  the 
kind  of  man  who  would  be  able  to  enlighten  him, 
he  changed  his  mind  ;  nothing,  he  reflected,  would 
be  more  likely  to  make  the  stranger  talk  freely  with 
him,  than  the  affording  him  an  opportunity  for 
showing  off  his  skill  as  an  interpreter. 

1 66 


Mr.  Balmy 


Something,  therefore,  he  would  say,  but  what  ? 
No  one  could  talk  more  freely  when  the  train  of  his 
thoughts,  or  the  conversation  of  others,  gave  him 
his  cue,  but  when  told  to  say  an  unattached  "  some- 
thing," he  could  not  even  think  of  "  How  do  you  do 
this  morning  ?  it  is  a  very  fine  day  ;  "  and  the  more 
he  cudgelled  his  brains  for  "  something,"  the  more 
they  gave  no  response.  He  could  not  even  con- 
verse further  with  the  stranger  beyond  plain  "  yes  " 
and  "no"  ;  so  he  went  on  with  his  supper,  and  in 
thinking  of  what  he  was  eating  and  drinking  for  the 
moment  forgot  to  ransack  his  brain.  No  sooner 
had  he  left  off  ransacking  it,  than  it  suggested  some- 
thing— not,  indeed,  a  very  brilliant  something,  but 
still  something.  On  having  grasped  it,  he  laid  down 
his  knife  and  fork,  and  with  the  air  of  one  distraught 
he  said — 

"  My  name  is  Nerval,  on  the  Grampian  Hills 
My  father  feeds  his  flock — a  frugal  swain." 

"  I  heard  you,"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  "  and  I 
can  interpret  every  word  of  what  you  have  said,  but 
it  would  not  become  me  to  do  so,  for  you  have  con- 
veyed to  me  a  message  more  comforting  than  I  can 
bring  myself  to  repeat  even  to  him  who  has  con- 
veyed it." 

Having  said  this  he  bowed  his  head,  and  re- 
mained for  some  time  wrapped  in  meditation. 
My  father  kept  a  respectful  silence,  but  after  a 
little  time  he  ventured  to  say  in  a  low  tone,  how 

glad  he  was   to  have  been  the    medium   through 

167 


Erewhon   Revisited 

whom  a  comforting  assurance  had  been  conveyed. 
Presently,  on  finding  himself  encouraged  to  renew 
the  conversation,  he  threw  out  a  deferential  feeler 
as  to  the  causes  that  might  have  induced  Mr. 
Balmy  to  come  to  Fairmead.  "  Perhaps,"  he 
said,  "you,  like  myself,  have  come  to  these  parts 
in  order  to  see  the  dedication  of  the  new  temple  ; 
I  could  not  get  a  lodging  in  Sunch'ston,  so  I 
walked  down  here  this  morning." 

This,  it  seemed,  had  been  Mr.  Balmy's  own  case, 
except  that  he  had  not  yet  been  to  Sunch'ston. 
Having  heard  that  it  was  full  to  overflowing,  he 
had  determined  to  pass  the  night  at  Fairmead, 
and  walk  over  in  the  morning — starting  soon  after 
seven,  so  as  to  arrive  in  good  time  for  the  dedica- 
tion ceremony.  When  my  father  heard  this,  he 
proposed  that  they  should  walk  together,  to  which 
Mr.  Balmy  gladly  consented ;  it  was  therefore 
arranged  that  they  should  go  to  bed  early,  break- 
fast soon  after  six,  and  then  walk  to  Sunch'ston. 
My  father  then  went  to  his  own  room,  where 
he  again  smoked  a  surreptitious  pipe  up  the 
chimney. 

Next  morning  the  two  men  breakfasted  to- 
gether, and  set  out  as  the  clock  was  striking 
seven.  The  day  was  lovely  beyond  the  power 
of  words,  and  still  fresh — for  Fairmead  was  some 
2500  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  sun  did  not  get 
above  the  mountains  that  overhung  it  on  the  east 
side,  till  after  eight  o'clock.     Many  persons  were 

also  starting  for  Sunch'ston,  and  there  was  a  pro- 

168 


Mr.  Balmy 


cession  got  up  by  the  Musical  Bank  Managers 
of  the  town,  who  walked  in  it,  robed  in  rich 
dresses  of  scarlet  and  white  embroidered  with 
much  gold  thread.  There  was  a  banner  display- 
ing an  open  chariot  in  which  the  Sunchild  and 
his  bride  were  seated,  beaming  with  smiles,  and 
in  attitudes  suggesting  that  they  were  bowing  to 
people  who  were  below  them.  The  chariot  was,  of 
course,  drawn  by  the  four  black  and  white  horses 
of  which  the  reader  has  already  heard,  and  the 
balloon  had  been  ignored.  Readers  of  my  father's 
book  will  perhaps  remember  that  my  mother  was 
not  seen  at  all — she  was  smuggled  into  the  car 
of  the  balloon  along  with  sundry  rugs,  under  which 
she  lay  concealed  till  the  balloon  had  left  the 
earth.  All  this  went  for  nothing.  It  has  been 
said  that  though  God  cannot  alter  the  past, 
historians  can  ;  it  is  perhaps  because  they  can  be 
useful  to  Him  in  this  respect  that  He  tolerates 
their  existence.  Painters,  my  father  now  realised, 
can  do  all  that  historians  can,  with  even  greater 
effect. 

Women  headed  the  procession  —  the  younger 
ones  dressed  in  white,  with  veils  and  chaplets  of 
roses,  blue  cornflower,  and  pheasant's  eye  Nar- 
cissus, W'hile  the  older  women  were  more  soberly 
attired.  The  Bank  Managers  and  the  banner 
headed  the  men,  who  were  mostly  peasants,  but 
among  them  w^ere  a  few  who  seemed  to  be  of 
higher  rank,  and  these,  for  the  most  part,  though 

by  no  means  all  of  them,  wore  their  clothes  re- 

169 


Erewhon   Revisited 

versed — as  I  have  forgotten  to  say  was  done  also 
by  Mr.  Balmy.  Both  men  and  women  joined 
in  singing  a  litany  the  words  of  which  my  father 
could  not  catch  ;  the  tune  was  one  he  had  been 
used  to  play  on  his  apology  for  a  flute  when  he 
was  in  prison,  being,  in  fact,  none  other  than 
"  Home,  Sweet  Home."  There  was  no  harmony  ; 
they  never  got  beyond  the  first  four  bars,  but 
these  they  must  have  repeated,  my  father  thought, 
at  least  a  hundred  times  between  Fairmead  and 
Sunch'ston.  "Well,"  said  he  to  himself,  "how- 
ever little  else  I  may  have  taught  them,  I  at  any 
rate  gave  them  the  diatonic  scale." 

He  now  set  himself  to  exploit  his  fellow-traveller, 
for  they  soon  got  past  the  procession. 

"The  greatest  miracle,"  said  he,  "in  connection 
with  this  whole  matter,  has  been — so  at  least  it 
seems  to  me — not  the  ascent  of  the  Sunchild  with 
his  bride,  but  the  readiness  with  which  the  people 
generally  acknowledged  its  miraculous  character. 
I  was  one  of  those  that  witnessed  the  ascent,  but  I 
saw  no  signs  that  the  crowd  appreciated  its  signifi- 
cance. They  were  astounded,  but  they  did  not  fall 
down  and  worship." 

"Ah,"  said  the  other,  "but  you  forget  the  long 
drought  and  the  rain  that  the  Sunchild  immediately 
prevailed  on  the  air-god  to  send  us.  He  had  an- 
nounced himself  as  about  to  procure  it  for  us  ;  it 
was  on  this  ground  that  the  King  assented  to  the 
preparation  of  those  material  means  that  were  neces- 
sary before  the  horses  of  the  sun  could  attach  them- 


Mr.  Balmy 


selves  to  the  chariot  into  which  the  balloon  was 
immediately  transformed.  Those  horses  might  not 
be  defiled  by  contact  with  this  gross  earth.  I  too 
witnessed  the  ascent ;  at  the  moment,  I  grant  you, 
I  saw  neither  chariot  nor  horses,  and  almost  all 
those  present  shared  my  own  temporary  blindness  ; 
the  whole  action  from  the  moment  when  the  balloon 
left  the  earth,  moved  so  rapidly,  that  we  were  flus- 
tered, and  hardly  knew  what  it  was  that  we  were 
really  seeing.  It  was  not  till  two  or  three  years 
later  that  I  found  the  scene  presenting  itself  to  my 
soul's  imaginary  sight  in  the  full  splendour  which 
was  no  doubt  witnessed,  but  not  apprehended,  by 
my  bodily  vision." 

"  There,"  said  my  father,  "  you  confirm  an  opinion 
that  I  have  long  held. — Nothing  is  so  misleading  as 
the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses." 

"  A  spiritual  enlightenment  from  within,"  returned 
Mr.  Balmy,  "  is  more  to  be  relied  on  than  any 
merely  physical  affluence  from  external  objects. 
Now,  when  I  shut  my  eyes,  I  see  the  balloon 
ascend  a  little  way,  but  almost  immediately  the 
heavens  open,  the  horses  descend,  the  balloon  is 
transformed,  and  the  glorious  pageant  careers  on- 
ward till  it  vanishes  into  the  heaven  of  heavens. 
Hundreds  with  whom  I  have  conversed  assure  me 
that  their  experience  has  been  the  same  as  mine. 
Has  yours  been  different  ?" 

"  Oh  no,  not  at  all ;  but  I  always  see  some  storks 

circling  round  the  balloon  before  I  see  any  horses." 

"  How  strange  !      I  have  heard  others  also  say 
171 


Erewhon   Revisited 

that  they  saw  the  storks  you  mention ;  but  let  me 
do  my  utmost  I  cannot  force  them  into  my  mental 
image  of  the  scene.  This  shows,  as  you  were  saying 
just  now,  how  incomplete  the  testimony  of  an  eye- 
witness often  is.  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  storks 
were  there,  but  the  horses  and  the  chariot  have  im- 
pressed themselves  more  vividly  on  my  mind  than 
anything  else  has." 

"Quite  so  ;  and  I  am  not  without  hope  that  even 
at  this  late  hour  some  further  details  may  yet  be 
revealed  to  us." 

"  It  is  possible,  but  we  should  be  as  cautious  in 
accepting  any  fresh  details  as  in  rejecting  them. 
Should  some  heresy  obtain  wide  acceptance,  visions 
will  perhaps  be  granted  to  us  that  may  be  useful  in 
refuting  it,  but  otherwise  I  expect  nothing  more." 

"  Neither  do  I,  but  I  have  heard  people  say  that 
inasmuch  as  the  Sunchild  said  he  was  going  to 
interview  the  air-god  in  order  to  send  us  rain,  he 
was  more  probably  son  to  the  air-god  than  to  the 
sun.     Now  here  is  a  heresy  which " 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Mr.  Balmy,  interrupting 
him  with  great  warmth,  "  he  spoke  of  his  father  in 
heaven  as  endowed  with  attributes  far  exceeding 
any  that  can  be  conceivably  ascribed  to  the  air- 
god.  The  power  of  the  air-god  does  not  extend 
beyond  our  own  atmosphere." 

"  Pray  believe  me/'  said  my  father,  who  saw  by 

the  ecstatic  gleam  in  his  companion's  eye  that  there 

was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  agree  with  him, 

"that  I  accept " 

172 


Mr.  Balmy 


"  Hear  me  to  the  end,"  replied  Mr.  Balmy.  "  Who 
ever  heard  the  Sunchild  claim  relationship  with  the 
air-god  ?  He  could  command  the  air-god,  and 
evidently  did  so,  halting  no  doubt  for  this  bene- 
ficent purpose  on  his  journey  towards  his  ultimate 
destination.  Can  we  suppose  that  the  air-god, 
who  had  evidently  intended  withholding  the  rain 
from  us  for  an  indefinite  period,  should  have  so 
immediately  relinquished  his  designs  against  us  at 
the  intervention  of  any  less  exalted  personage  than 
'(he  sun's  own  offspring  ?     Impossible  ! " 

*'  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  exclaimed  my  father, 
"it  is  out  of  the " 

"  Let  me  finish  what  I  have  to  say.  When  the 
rain  came  so  copiously  for  days,  even  those  who 
had  not  seen  the  miraculous  ascent  found  its  con- 
sequences come  so  directly  home  to  them,  that 
they  had  no  difficulty  in  accepting  the  report  of 
others.  There  was  not  a  farmer  or  cottager  in  the 
land  but  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  at  rescue  from 
impending  ruin,  and  they  all  knew  it  was  the 
Sunchild  who  had  promised  the  King  that  he 
would  make  the  air-god  send  it.  So  abundantly, 
you  will  remember,  did  it  come,  that  we  had  to 
pray  to  him  to  stop  it,  which  in  his  own  good 
time  he  was  pleased  to  do." 

"  I  remember,"  said  my  father,  who  was  at  last 
able  to  edge  in  a  word,  "  that  it  nearly  flooded  me 
out  of  house  and  home.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all 
this,  I  hear  that  there  are  many  at  Bridgeford  who 
are  still  hardened  unbelievers." 

173 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  Alas  !  you  speak  too  truly.  Bridgeford  and  the 
Musical  Banks  for  the  first  three  years  fought  tooth 
and  nail  to  blind  those  whom  it  was  their  first  duty 
to  enlighten.  I  was  a  Professor  of  the  hypothetical 
language,  and  you  may  perhaps  remember  how  I 
was  driven  from  my  chair  on  account  of  the  fear- 
lessness with  which  I  expounded  the  deeper  mys- 
teries of  Sunchildism." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  well  how  cruelly "  but  my 

father  was  not  allowed  to  get  beyond  "  cruelly." 

"  It  was  I  who  explained  why  the  Sunchild  had 
represented  himself  as  belonging  to  a  people  in 
many  respects  analogous  to  our  own,  when  no 
such  people  can  have  existed.  It  was  I  who  de- 
tected that  the  supposed  nation  spoken  of  by  the 
Sunchild  was  an  invention  designed  in  order  to 
give  us  instruction  by  the  light  of  which  we  might 
more  easily  remodel  our  institutions.  I  have  some- 
times thought  that  my  gift  of  interpretation  was 
vouchsafed  to  me  in  recognition  of  the  humble 
services  that  I  was  hereby  allowed  to  render.  By 
the  way,  you  have  received  no  illumination  this 
morning,  have  you  ?" 

"  I  never  do,  sir,  when  I  am  in  the  company  of 
one  whose  conversation  I  find  supremely  inter- 
esting. But  you  were  telling  me  about  Bridge- 
ford  :  I  live  hundreds  of  miles  from  Bridgeford, 
and  have  never  understood  the  suddenness,  and 
completeness,  with  which  men  like  Professors 
Hanky  and  Panky  and  Dr.  Downie  changed  front. 
Do  they  believe   as  you   and   I   do,   or   did   they 

174 


Mr.  Balmy 


merely  go  with  the  times  ?  I  spent  a  couple  of 
hours  with  Hanky  and  Panky  only  two  evenings  ago, 
and  was  not  so  much  impressed  as  I  could  have 
wished  with  the  depth  of  their  religious  fervour." 

"They  are  sincere  now — more  especially  Hanky 
— but  I  cannot  think  I  am  judging  them  harshly, 
if  I  say  that  they  were  not  so  at  first.  Even  now, 
I  fear,  that  they  are  more  carnally  than  spiritually 
minded.  See  how  they  have  fought  for  the  ag- 
grandisement of  their  own  order.  It  is  mainly 
their  doing  that  the  Musical  Banks  have  usurped 
the  spiritual  authority  formerly  exercised  by  the 
straighteners." 

"  But  the  straighteners,"  said  my  father,  "  could 
not  co-exist  with  Sunchildism,  and  it  is  hard  to  see 
how  the  claims  of  the  Banks  can  be  reasonably 
gainsaid." 

"  Perhaps ;  and  after  all  the  Banks  are  our 
main  bulwark  against  the  evils  that  I  fear  will 
follow  from  the  repeal  of  the  laws  against  machi- 
nery. This  has  already  led  to  the  development 
of  a  materialism  which  minimizes  the  miraculous 
element  in  the  Sunchild's  ascent,  as  our  own  people 
minimize  the  material  means  that  were  the  neces- 
sary prologue  to  the  miraculous." 

Thus  did  they  converse  ;  but  I  will  not  pursue 
their  conversation  further.  It  will  be  enough  to 
say  that  in  further  floods  of  talk  Mr.  Balmy  con- 
firmed what  George  had  said  about  the  Banks 
having  lost  their  hold  upon  the  masses.  That  hold 
was  weak  even  in  the  time  of  my  father's  first  visit ; 

175 


Erewhon   Revisited 

but  when  the  people  saw  the  hostility  of  the  Banks 
to  a  movement  which  far  the  greater  number  of 
them  accepted,  it  seemed  as  though  both  Bridge- 
ford  and  the  Banks  were  doomed,  for  Bridgeford 
was  heart  and  soul  with  the  Banks.  Hanky,  it 
appeared,  though  under  thirty,  and  not  yet  a  Pro- 
fessor, grasped  the  situation,  and  saw  that  Bridge- 
ford  must  either  move  with  the  times,  or  go.  He 
consulted  some  of  the  most  sagacious  Heads  of 
Houses  and  Professors,  v;ith  the  result  that  a 
committee  of  enquiry  was  appointed,  which  in  due 
course  reported  that  the  evidence  for  the  Sunchild's 
having  been  the  only  child  of  the  sun  was  conclu- 
sive. It  was  about  this  time — that  is  to  say  some 
three  years  after  his  ascent — that  "  Higgsism,"  as  it 
had  been  hitherto  called,  became  "  Sunchildism," 
and  "  Higgs  "  the  "  Sunchild." 

My  father  also  learned  the  King's  fury  at  his 
escape  (for  he  would  call  it  nothing  else)  with  my 
mother.  This  was  so  great  that  though  he  had 
hitherto  been,  and  had  ever  since  proved  himself 
to  be,  a  humane  ruler,  he  ordered  the  instant  exe- 
cution of  all  who  had  been  concerned  in  making 
either  the  gas  or  the  balloon  ;  and  his  cruel  orders 
were  carried  out  within  a  couple  of  hours.  At  the 
same  time  he  ordered  the  destruction  by  fire  of  the 
Queen's  workshops,  and  of  all  remnants  of  any 
materials  used  in  making  the  balloon.  It  is  said 
the  Queen  was  so  much  grieved  and  outraged 
(for  it  was  her  doing  that  the  material  ground- 
work, so  to  speak,  had  been  provided  for  the  miracle) 

176 


Mr.  Balmy 


that  she  wept  night  and  day  without  ceasing  three 
whole  months,  and  never  again  allowed  her  hus- 
band to  embrace  her,  till  he  had  also  embraced 
Sunchildism. 

When  the  rain  came,  public  indignation  at  the 
King's  action  was  raised  almost  to  revolution  pitch, 
and  the  King  was  frightened  at  once  by  the  arrival 
of  the  promised  downfall  and  the  displeasure  of  his 
subjects.  But  he  still  held  out,  and  it  was  only 
after  concessions  on  the  part  of  the  Bridgeford 
committee,  that  he  at  last  consented  to  the  absorp- 
tion of  Sunchildism  into  the  Musical  Bank  system, 
and  to  its  establishment  as  the  religion  of  the 
country.  The  far-reaching  changes  in  Erewhonian 
institutions  with  which  the  reader  is  already  ac- 
quainted followed  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  I  know  the  difficulty,"  said  my  father  presently, 
"  with  which  the  King  was  persuaded  to  allow  the 
way  in  which  the  Sunchild's  dress  should  be  worn 
to  be  a  matter  of  opinion,  not  dogma.  I  see  we  have 
adopted  different  fashions.  Have  you  any  decided 
opinions  upon  the  subject  ?  " 

"  I  have ;  but  I  will  ask  you  not  to  press  me  for 
them.  Let  this  matter  remain  as  the  King  has 
left  it." 

My  father  thought  that  he  might  now  venture  on 
a  shot.  So  he  said,  "  I  have  always  understood, 
too,  that  the  King  forced  the  repeal  of  the  laws 
against  machinery  on  the  Bridgeford  committee,  as 
another  condition  of  his  assent  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  He  insisted  on  this,  partly  to  gratify 
177  M 


Erewhon   Revisited 

the  Queen,  who  had  not  yet  forgiven  him,  and  who 
had  set  her  heart  on  having  a  watch,  and  partly 
because  he  expected  that  a  development  of  the 
country's  resources,  in  consequence  of  a  freer  use 
of  machinery,  would  bring  more  money  into  his 
exchequer.  Bridgeford  fought  hard  and  wisely 
here,  but  they  had  gained  so  much  by  the  Musical 
Bank  Managers  being  recognised  as  the  authorised 
exponents  of  Sunchildism,  that  they  thought  it 
wise  to  yield — apparently  with  a  good  grace — and 
thus  gild  the  pill  which  his  Majesty  was  about  to 
swallow.  But  even  then  they  feared  the  conse- 
quences that  are  already  beginning  to  appear,  and 
which,  if  I  mistake  not,  will  assume  far  more  serious 
proportions  in  the  future." 

"See,"  said  my  father  suddenly,  "we  are  coming 
to  another  procession,  and  they  have  got  some 
banners ;  let  us  walk  a  little  quicker  and  over- 
take it." 

"  Horrible  !  "  replied  Mr.  Balmy  fiercely.  "  You 
must  be  short-sighted,  or  you  could  never  have 
called  my  attention  to  it.  Let  us  get  it  behind  us 
as  fast  as  possible,  and  not  so  much  as  look  at  it." 

"  Oh  yes,  yes,"  said  my  father,  "  it  is  indeed  hor- 
rible, I  had  not  seen  what  it  was." 

He  had  not   the    faintest  idea  what   the   matter 

was,  but  he  let  Mr.  Balmy  walk  a  little  ahead  of 

him,  so  that  he  could  see  the  banners,  the  most 

important  of  which  he  found  to  display  a  balloon 

pure  and  simple,  with  one  figure  in  the  car.     True, 

at  the  top  of  the  banner  there  was  a  smudge  which 

178 


Mr.  Balmy 


might  be  taken  for  a  little  chariot,  and  some  very 
little  horses,  but  the  balloon  was  the  only  thing  in- 
sisted on.  As  for  the  procession,  it  consisted  entirely 
of  men,  whom  a  smaller  banner  announced  to  be 
workmen  from  the  Fairmead  iron  and  steel  works. 
There  was  a  third  banner,  which  said,  "  Science  as 
well  as  Sunchildism." 


179 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  TEMPLE  IS  DEDICATED  TO  MY  FATHER,  AND 
CERTAIN  EXTRACTS  ARE  READ  FROM  HIS  SUP- 
POSED SAYINGS. 

"  It  is  enough  to  break  one's  heart,"  said  Mr.  Balmy 
when  he  had  outstripped  the  procession,  and  my 
father  was  again  beside  him.  " '  As  well  as,'  indeed  ! 
We  know  what  that  means.  Wherever  there  is  a 
factory  there  is  a  hot  -  bed  of  unbelief.  *  As  well 
as' !     Why  it  is  a  defiance." 

"What,  I  wonder,"  said  my  father  innocently, 
"  must  the  Sunchild's  feelings  be,  as  he  looks  down 
on  this  procession.  For  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  he  is  doing  so." 

"There  can  be  no  doubt  at  all,"  replied  Mr. 
Balmy,  "that  he  is  taking  note  of  it,  and  of  all  else 
that  is  happening  this  day  in  Erewhon.  Heaven 
grant  that  he  be  not  so  angered  as  to  chastise  the 
innocent  as  well  as  the  guilty." 

"  I  doubt,"  said  my  father,  "  his  being  so  angry 
even  with  this  procession,  as  you  think  he  is." 

Here,  fearing  an  outburst  of  indignation,  he 
found  an  excuse  for  rapidly  changing  the  conver- 
sation. Moreover  he  was  angry  with  himself  for 
playing  upon  this  poor  good  creature.      He  had 

not  done  so  of  malice  prepense ;  he  had  begun  to 

i8o 


The  Dedication 


deceive  him,  because  he  beheved  himself  to  be  in 
danger  if  he  spoke  the  truth  ;  and  though  he  knew 
the  part  to  be  an  unworthy  one,  he  could  not 
escape  from  continuing  to  play  it,  if  he  was  to 
discover  things  that  he  was  not  likely  to  discover 
otherwise. 

Often,  however,  he  had  checked  himself.  It  had 
been  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  to  be  illuminated  with 
the  words, 

Sukoh  and  Sukop  were  two  pretty  men, 
They  lay  in  bed  till  the  clock  struck  ten, 

and  to  follow  it  up  with. 

Now  with  the  drops  of  this  most  Yknarc  time 
My  love  looks  fresh, 

in  order  to  see  how  Mr.  Balmy  would  interpret  the 
assertion  here  made  about  the  Professors,  and  what 
statement  he  would  connect  with  his  own  Ere- 
whonian  name  ;  but  he  had  restrained  himself. 

The  more  he  saw,  and  the  more  he  heard,  the 
more  shocked  he  was  at  the  mischief  he  had 
done.  See  how  he  had  unsettled  the  little  mind 
this  poor,  dear,  good  gentleman  had  ever  had,  till 
he  was  now  a  mere  slave  to  preconception.  And 
how  many  more  had  he  not  in  like  manner  brought 
to  the  verge  of  idiocy  ?  How  many  again  had  he 
not  made  more  corrupt  than  they  were  before,  even 
though  he  had  not  deceived  them — as  for  example. 
Hanky  and  Panky.  And  the  young  ?  how  could 
such  a  lie  as  that  a  chariot  and  four  horses  came 


Erewhon   Revisited 

down  out  of  the  clouds  enter  seriously  into  the  life 
of  any  one,  without  distorting  his  mental  vision,  if 
not  ruining  it  ? 

And  yet,  the  more  he  reflected,  the  more  he  also 
saw  that  he  could  do  no  good  by  saying  who  he 
was.  Matters  had  gone  so  far  that  though  he  spoke 
with  the  tongues  of  men  and  angels  he  would  not 
be  listened  to  ;  and  even  if  he  were,  it  might  easily 
prove  that  he  had  added  harm  to  that  which  he  had 
done  already.  No.  As  soon  as  he  had  heard 
Hanky's  sermon,  he  would  begin  to  work  his  way 
back,  and  if  the  Professors  had  not  yet  removed 
their  purchase,  he  would  recover  it ;  but  he  would 
pin  a  bag  containing  about  five  pounds  worth  of 
nuggets  on  to  the  tree  in  which  they  had  hidden 
it,  and,  if  possible,  he  would  find  some  way  of  send- 
ing the  rest  to  George. 

He  let  Mr.  Balmy  continue  talking,  glad  that  this 

gentleman  required  little  more  than  monosyllabic 

answers,   and   still    more   glad,    in    spite   of    some 

agitation,    to    see    that    they    were    now    nearing 

Sunch'ston,  towards   which   a  great  concourse  of 

people   was   hurrying  from  Clearwater,  and  more 

distant   towns   on   the   main    road.      Many   whole 

families   were   coming, — the   fathers   and    mothers 

carrying  the  smaller  children,  and  also  their  own 

shoes   and   stockings,   which    they   would   put    on 

when    nearing   the   town.      Most   of    the   pilgrims 

brought  provisions  with  them.     All  wore  European 

costumes,  but  only  a  few  of  them  wore  it  reversed, 

and  these  were  almost  invariably  of  higher  social 

182 


The   Dedication 


status  than  the  great  body  of  the  people,  who  were 
mainly  peasants. 

When  they  reached  the  town,  my  father  was 
relieved  at  finding  that  Mr.  Balmy  had  friends  on 
whom  he  wished  to  call  before  going  to  the  temple. 
He  asked  my  father  to  come  with  him,  but  my  father 
said  that  he  too  had  friends,  and  would  leave  him 
for  the  present,  while  hoping  to  meet  him  again 
later  in  the  day.  The  two,  therefore,  shook  hands 
with  great  effusion,  and  went  their  several  ways. 
My  father's  way  took  him  first  into  a  confectioner's 
shop,  where  he  bought  a  couple  of  Sunchild  buns, 
which  he  put  into  his  pocket,  and  refreshed  himself 
with  a  bottle  of  Sunchild  cordial  and  water.  All 
shops  except  those  dealing  in  refreshments  were 
closed,  and  the  town  was  gaily  decorated  with  flags 
and  flowers,  often  festooned  into  words  or  em- 
blems proper  for  the  occasion. 

My  father,  it  being   now   a   quarter   to   eleven, 

made  his  way  towards  the  temple,  and  his  heart 

was  clouded  with  care  as  he  walked  along.     Not 

only  was  his  heart  clouded,  but  his  brain  also  was 

oppressed,  and  he  reeled  so  much  on  leaving  the 

confectioner's  shop,  that  he  had  to  catch  hold  of 

some   railings  till  the  faintness  and  giddiness  left 

him.     He  knew  the  feeling  to  be  the  same  as  what 

he  had  felt  on  the  Friday  evening,  but  he  had  no 

idea  of  the  cause,  and  as  soon  as  the  giddiness  left 

him  he  thought  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with 

him. 

Turning  down  a  side  street  that  led  into  the  main 
183 


Erewhon   Revisited 

square  of  the  town,  he  found  himself  opposite  the 
south  end  of  the  temple,  with  its  two  lofty  towers 
that  flanked  the  richly  decorated  main  entrance. 
I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  architecture,  for 
my  father  could  give  me  little  information  on  this 
point.  He  only  saw  the  south  front  for  two  or 
three  minutes,  and  was  not  impressed  by  it,  save 
in  so  far  as  it  was  richly  ornamented — evidently  at 
great  expense — and  very  large.  Even  if  he  had 
had  a  longer  look,  I  doubt  whether  I  should  have 
got  more  out  of  him,  for  he  knew  nothing  of  archi- 
tecture, and  I  fear  his  test  whether  a  building  was 
good  or  bad,  was  whether  it  looked  old  and 
weather-beaten  or  no.  No  matter  what  a  building 
was,  if  it  was  three  or  four  hundred  years  old  he 
liked  it,  whereas,  if  it  was  new,  he  would  look  to 
nothing  but  whether  it  kept  the  rain  out.  Indeed 
I  have  heard  him  say  that  the  mediaeval  sculpture 
on  some  of  our  great  cathedrals  often  only  pleases 
us  because  time  and  weather  have  set  their  seals 
upon  it,  and  that  if  we  could  see  it  as  it  was  when 
it  left  the  mason's  hands,  we  should  find  it  no 
better  than  much  that  is  now  turned  out  in  the 
Euston  Road. 

The  ground  plan  here  given  will  help  the  reader 
to  understand  the  few  following  pages  more  easily. 

The  building  was  led  up  to  by  a  flight  of  steps 

(M),  and  on  entering  it  my  father  found  it  to  consist 

of  a  spacious  nave,  with    two  aisles   and   an   apse 

which  was  raised  some  three  feet  above  the  nave 

and  aisles.     There  were  no  transepts.     In  the  apse 

184 


s 


o' 


SL 


0'         Q^ 

•)' 

E 

I 

y                            c 

r 

k       1 . 

o' 
o' 

0' 

=r- 

0' 

o' 
o' 

=B= 

_A= 

c 

o' 


jQl 


K 


isr 


Table  with  cashier's  seat  on 
either  side,andaIms-box  in 
front.  The  picture  is  ex- 
hibited on  a  scaffolding  be- 
hind it. 

The  reliquary. 

The  President's  chair. 

Pulpit  and  lectern. 


Side  doors. 


i.  Yram's  seat. 

^.  Seats  of  George  and  the  Sun- 
child. 

o'  Pillars. 

A,B,C,  D,  E,  F,  G,  H,  blocks 
of  seats. 

/.  Steps  leading  from  the  apse 
to  the  nave. 

A' and  L.  Towers. 

M.  Steps  and  main  en- 
trance. 

N.  Robing-room. 


185 


Erewhon   Revisited 


there  was  the  table  (a),  with  the  two  bowls  of 
Musical  Bank  money  mentioned  on  an  earlier 
page,  as  also  the  alms-box  in  front  of  it. 

At  some  little  distance  in  front  of  the  table  stood 
the  President's  chair  (<;),  or  I  might  almost  call  it 
throne.  It  was  so  placed  that  his  back  would  be 
turned  towards  the  table,  which  fact  again  shews 
that  the  table  was  not  regarded  as  having  any 
greater  sanctity  than  the  rest  of  the  temple. 

Behind  the  table,  the  picture  already  spoken  of 
was  raised  aloft.  There  was  no  balloon  ;  some 
clouds  that  hung  about  the  lower  part  of  the 
chariot  served  to  conceal  the  fact  that  the  painter 
was  uncertain  whether  it  ought  to  have  wheels  or 
no.  The  horses  were  without  driver,  and  my 
father  thought  that  some  one  ought  to  have  had 
them  in  hand,  for  they  were  in  far  too  excited  a 
state  to  be  left  safely  to  themselves.  They  had 
hardly  any  harness,  but  what  little  there  was  was 
enriched  with  gold  bosses.  My  mother  was  in 
Erewhonian  costume,  my  father  in  European,  but 
he  wore  his  clothes  reversed.  Both  he  and  my 
mother  seemed  to  be  bowing  graciously  to  an  un- 
seen crowd  beneath  them,  and  in  the  distance,  near 
the  bottom  of  the  picture,  was  a  fairly  accurate  re- 
presentation of  the  Sunch'ston  new  temple.  High 
up,  on  the  right  hand,  was  a  disc,  raised  and  gilt,  to 
represent  the  sun  ;  on  it,  in  low  relief,  there  was  an 
indication  of  a  gorgeous  palace,  in  which,  no  doubt, 
the   sun  was  supposed   to  live  ;   though  how  they 

made  it  all  out  my  father  could  not  conceive. 

1 86 


The  Dedication 


On  the  right  of  the  table  there  was  a  reliquary  {b) 
of  glass,  much  adorned  with  gold,  or  more  probably 
gilding,  for  gold  was  so  scarce  in  Erewhon  that 
gilding  would  be  as  expensive  as  a  thin  plate  of 
gold  would  be  in  Europe  :  but  there  is  no  knowing. 
The  reliquary  was  attached  to  a  portable  stand 
some  five  feet  high,  and  inside  it  was  the  relic 
already  referred  to.  The  crowd  was  so  great  that 
my  father  could  not  get  near  enough  to  see  what 
it  contained,  but  I  may  say  here,  that  when,  two 
days  later,  circumstances  compelled  him  to  have  a 
close  look  at  it,  he  saw  that  it  consisted  of  about 
a  dozen  fine  coprolites,  deposited  by  some  ante- 
diluvian creature  or  creatures,  which,  whatever  else 
they  may  have  been,  were  certainly  not  horses. 

In  the  apse  there  were  a  few  cross  benches  (G 
and  H)  on  either  side,  with  an  open  space  between 
them,  which  was  partly  occupied  by  the  President's 
seat  already  mentioned.  Those  on  the  right,  as 
one  looked  towards  the  apse,  were  for  the  Managers 
and  Cashiers  of  the  Bank,  while  those  on  the  left 
were  for  their  wives  and  daughters. 

In  the  centre  of  the  nave,  only  a  few  feet  in  front 
of  the  steps  leading  to  the  apse,  was  a  handsome 
pulpit  and  lectern  {d).  The  pulpit  was  raised  some 
feet  above  the  ground,  and  was  so  roomy  that  the 
preacher  could  walk  about  in  it.  On  either  side  of 
it  there  were  cross  benches  with  backs  (E  and  F) ; 
those  on  the  right  were  reserved  for  the  Mayor, 
civic  functionaries,  and  distinguished  visitors,  while 
those  on  the  left  were  for  their  wives  and  daughters. 


Erewhon  Revisited 

Benches  with  backs  (A,  B,  C,  D)  were  placed 
about  half-way  down  both  nave  and  aisles — those 
in  the  nave  being  divided  so  as  to  allow  a  free 
passage  between  them.  The  rest  of  the  temple  was 
open  space,  about  which  people  might  walk  at 
their  will.  There  were  side  doors  {e,  g,  and/,  k)  at 
the  upper  and  lower  end  of  each  aisle.  Over  the 
main  entrance  was  a  gallery  in  which  singers  were 
placed. 

As  my  father  was  worming  his  way  among  the 
crowd,  which  was  now  very  dense,  he  was  startled 
at  finding  himself  tapped  lightly  on  the  shoulder, 
and  turning  round  in  alarm  was  confronted  by 
the  beaming  face  of  George. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Professor  Panky  ? "  said  the 
youth — who  had  decided  thus  to  address  him. 
"What  are  you  doing  here  among  the  common 
people  ?  Why  have  you  not  taken  your  place  in 
one  of  the  seats  reserved  for  our  distinguished 
visitors  ?  I  am  afraid  they  must  be  all  full  by 
this  time,  but  I  will  see  what  I  can  do  for  you. 
Come  with  me." 

"Thank  you,"  said  my  father.  His  heart  beat 
so  fast  that  this  was  all  he  could  say,  and  he 
followed  meek  as  a  lamb. 

With  some  difficulty  the  two  made  their  way  to 
the  right-hand  corner  seats  of  block  C,  for  every 
seat  in  the  reserved  block  was  taken.  The  places 
which  George  wanted  for  my  father  and  for  himself 
were  already  occupied  by  two  young  men  of  about 
eighteen  and  nineteen,  both  of  them  well-grown,  and 


The  Dedication 


of  prepossessing  appearance.  My  father  saw  by 
the  truncheons  they  carried  that  they  were  special 
constables,  but  he  took  no  notice  of  this,  for 
there  were  many  others  scattered  about  the  crowd. 
George  whispered  a  few  words  to  one  of  them, 
and  to  my  father's  surprise  they  both  gave  up 
their  seats,  which  appear  on  the  plan  as  (k). 

it  afterwards  transpired  that  these  two  young 
men  were  George's  brothers,  who  by  his  desire 
had  taken  the  seats  some  hours  ago,  for  it  was  here 
that  George  had  determined  to  place  himself  and 
my  father  if  he  could  find  him.  He  chose  these 
place^  because  they  would  be  near  enough  to  let 
his  mother  (who  was  at  t,  in  the  middle  of  the  front 
row  of  block  E,  to  the  left  of  the  pulpit)  see  my 
father  without  being  so  near  as  to  embarrass  him ; 
he  could  also  see  and  be  seen  by  Hanky,  and 
hear  every  word  of  his  sermon  ;  but  perhaps  his 
chief  reason  had  been  the  fact  that  they  were  not 
far  from  the  side-door  at  the  upper  end  of  the  right- 
hand  aisle,  while  there  was  no  barrier  to  interrupt 
rapid  egress  should  this  prove  necessary. 

It  was  now  high  time  that  they  should  sit  down, 
which  they  accordingly  did.  George  sat  at  the 
end  of  the  bench,  and  thus  had  my  father  on  his 
left.  My  father  was  rather  uncomfortable  at  seeing 
the  young  men  whom  they  had  turned  out,  stand- 
ing against  a  column  close  by,  but  George  said 
that  this  was  how  it  waS"  to  be,  and  there  was 
nothing  to  be  done  but  to   submit.     The  young 

men  seemed  quite  happy,  which  puzzled  my  father, 

189 


Erewhon  Revisited 

who  of  course  had  no  idea  that  their  action  w^ 
preconcerted.  -^^^ 

Panky  was  in  the  first  row  of  block  F,  so  tt^^t 
my  father  could  not  see  his  face  except  sometimes 
when  he  turned  round.  He  was  sitting  on  the 
Mayor's  right  hand,  while  Dr.  Downie  was  on  his 
left ;  he  looked  at  my  father  once  or  twice  in  a 
puzzled  way,  as  though  he  ought  to  have  known 
him,  but  my  father  did  not  think  he  recognised 
him.  Hanky  was  still  with  President  Gurgoyle  and 
others  in  the  robing-room,  N  ;  Yram  had  already 
taken  her  seat :  my  father  knew  her  in  a  moment, 
though  he  pretended  not  to  do  so  when  Qeorge 
pointed  her  out  to  him.  Their  eyes  met  for  a 
second ;  Yram  turned  hers  quickly  away,  arid  my 
father  could  not  see  a  trace  of  recognition  in  her 
face.  At  no  time  during  the  whole  ceremony  did 
he  catch  her  looking  at  him  again. 

"  Why,  you  stupid  man,"  she  said  to  him  later  on 
in  the  day  with  a  quick,  kindly  smile, ''  I  was  looking  at 
you  all  the  time.  As  soon  as  the  President  or  Hanky 
began  to  talk  about  you  I  knew  you  would  stare 
at  him,  and  then  I  could  look.  As  soon  as  they 
left  off  talking  about  you  I  knew  you  would  be 
looking  at  me,  unless  you  went  to  sleep — and  as 
I  did  not  know  which  you  might  be  doing,  I  waited 
till  they  began  to  talk  about  you  again." 

My  father  had  hardly  taken  note  of  his  surround- 
ings when  the  choir  began  singing,  accompanied  by 
a  few  feeble  flutes  and  lutes,  or  whatever  the  name 

of  the  instrument  should  be,  but  with  no  violins, 

190 


The  Dedication 


for  he  knew  nothing  of  the  violin,  and  had  not  been 
able  to  teach  the  Erewhonians  anything  about  it. 
The  voices  were  all  in  unison,  and  the  tune  they 
sang  was  one  which  my  father  had  taught  Yram  to 
sing  ;  but  he  could  not  catch  the  words. 

As  soon  as  the  singing  began,  a  procession, 
headed  by  the  venerable  Dr.  Gurgoyle,  President 
of  the  Musical  Banks  of  the  province,  began  to 
issue  from  the  robing-room,  and  move  towards  the 
middle  of  the  apse.  The  President  was  sumptuously 
dressed,  but  he  wore  no  mitre,  nor  anything  to  sug- 
gest an  English  or  European  Bishop.  The  Vice- 
President,  Head  Manager,  Vice-Manager,  and  some 
Cashiers  of  the  Bank,  now  ranged  themselves  on 
either  side  or  him,  and  formed  an  impressive  group 
as  they  stood,  gorgeously  arrayed,  at  the  top  of  the 
steps  leading  from  the  apse  to  the  nave.  Here  they 
waited  till  the  singers  left  off  singing. 

When  the  litany,  or  hymn,  or  whatever  it  should 

be  called,  was  over,  the   Head  Manager  left  the 

President's  side  and  came  down  to  the  lectern  in 

the  nave,  where  he  a^nnounced  himself  as  about  to 

read   some   passages  from  the  Sunchild's  Sayings. 

Perhaps  because  it  was  the  first  day  of  the  year 

according  to  their  new  calendar,  the  reading  began 

with  the  first  chapter,  the  whole  of  which  was  read. 

My  father  told  me  that  he  quite  well  remembered 

having  said  the  last  verse,  which  he  still  held  as 

true  ;  hardly  a  word  of  the  rest  was  ever  spoken  by 

him,  though   he   recognised   his  own    influence  in 

almost   all   of  it.     The  reader  paused,  with   good 

191 


Erewhon   Revisited 

effect,  for  about  five  seconds  between  each  para- 
graph, and  read  slowly  and  very  clearly.  The 
chapter  was  as  follows  : — 

These  are  the  words  of  the  Sunchild  about  God  and 
man.     He  said — 

1.  God  is  the  baseless  basis  of  all  thoughts,  things,  and 
deeds. 

2.  So  that  those  who  say  that  there  is  a  God,  lie, 
unless  they  also  mean  that  there  is  no  God ;  and  those  who 
say  that  there  is  no  God,  lie,  unless  they  also  mean  that 
there  is  a  God. 

3.  It  is  very  true  to  say  that  man  is  made  after  the 
likeness  of  God ;  and  yet  it  is  very  untrue  to  say  this. 

4.  God  lives  and  moves  in  every  atom  throughout  the 
universe.  Therefore  it  is  wrong  to  think  oi  Him  as  *  Him  ' 
and  *  He,'  save  as  by  the  clutching  of  a  drowning  man  at  a 
straw. 

5.  God  is  God  to  us  only  so  long  as  we  cannot  see 
Him.  When  we  are  near  to  seeing  Him  He  vanishes,  and 
we  behold  Nature  in  His  stead. 

6.  We  approach  Him  most  nearly  when  we  think  of 
Him  as  our  expression  for  Man's  highest  conception, 
of  goodness,  wisdom,  and  power.  But  we  cannot  rise  to 
Him  above  the  level  of  our  own  highest  selves. 

7.  We  remove  ourselves  most  far  from  Him  when  we 
invest  Him  with  human  form  and  attributes. 

8.  My  father  the  sun,  the  earth,  the  moon,  and  all 
planets  that  roll  round  my  father,  are  to  God  but  as  a 
single  cell  in  our  bodies  to  ourselves. 

9.  He  is  as  much  above  my  father,  as  my  father  is 
above  men  and  women. 

10.  The    universe  is   instinct  with  the  mind   of  God. 

The  mind  of  God  is  in  all  that  has  mind  throughout  all 

192 


The  Dedication 


worlds.     There  is  no  God  but  the  Universe,  and  man,  in 
this  world  is  His  prophet. 

ir.  God's  conscious  life,  nascent,  so  far  as  this  world 
is  concerned,  in  the  infusoria,  adolescent  in  the  higher 
mammals,  approaches  maturity  on  this  earth  in  man.  All 
these  living  beings  are  members  one  of  another,  and  of  God. 

12.  Therefore,  as  man  cannot  live  without  God  in  the 
world,  so  neither  can  God  live  in  this  world  without  mankind. 

13.  If  we  speak  ill  of  God  in  our  ignorance  it  may  be 
forgiven  us ;  but  if  we  speak  ill  of  His  Holy  Spirit  indwell- 
ing in  good  men  and  women  it  may  not  be  forgiven  us." 

The  Head  Manager  now  resumed  his  place  by 
President  Gurgoyle's  side,  and  the  President  in  the 
name  of  his  Majesty  the  King  declared  the  temple 
to  be  hereby  dedicated  to  the  contemplation  of  the 
Sunchild  and  the  better  exposition  of  his  teaching. 
This  was  all  that  was  said.  The  reliquary  was  then 
brought  forward  and  placed  at  the  top  of  the  steps 
leading  from  the  apse  to  the  nave  ;  but  the  original 
intention  of  carrying  it  round  the  temple  was  aban- 
doned for  fear  of  accidents  through  the  pressure 
round  it  of  the  enormous  multitudes  who  were 
assembled.  More  singing  followed  of  a  simple  but 
impressive  kind ;  during  this  I  am  afraid  I  must 
own  that  my  father,  tired  with  his  walk,  dropped 
off  into  a  refreshing  slumber,  from  which  he  did 
not  wake  till  George  nudged  him  and  told  him 
not  to  snore,  just  as  the  Vice-Manager  was  going 
towards  the  lectern  to  read  another  chapter  of  the 
Sunchild's  Sayings — which  was  as  follows  : — 

The  Sunchild  also  spoke  to  us  a  parable  about  the 
unwisdom  of  the  children  yet    unborn,  who  though  they 

193  N 


Erewhon   Revisited 

know  so  much,  yet  do  not  know  as  much  as  they  think 
they  do. 

He  said : — 

"The  unborn  have  knowledge  of  one  another  so  long 
as  they  are  unborn,  and  this  without  impediment  from 
walls  or  material  obstacles.  The  unborn  children  in  any 
city  form  a  population  apart,  who  talk  with  one  another 
and  tell  each  other  about  their  developmental  pro- 
gress. 

"They  have  no  knowledge,  and  cannot  even  conceive 
the  existence  of  anything  that  is  not  such  as  they  are 
themselves.  Those  who  have  been  born  are  to  them  what 
the  dead  are  to  us.  They  can  see  no  life  in  them,  and 
know  no  more  about  them  than  they  do  of  any  stage  in 
their  own  past  development  other  than  the  one  through 
which  they  are  passing  at  the  moment.  They  do  not  even 
know  that  their  mothers  are  alive — much  less  that  their 
mothers  were  once  as  they  now  are.  To  an  embryo,  its 
mother  is  simply  the  environment,  and  is  looked  upon 
much  as  our  inorganic  surroundings  are  by  ourselves. 

"The  great  terror  of  their  lives  is  the  fear  of  birth,— 
that  they  shall  have  to  leave  the  only  thing  that  they  can 
think  of  as  life,  and  enter  upon  a  dark  unknown  which  is 
to  them  tantamount  to  annihilation. 

"Some,   indeed,    among    them    have    maintained   that 

birth   is   not   the   death  which  they  commonly  deem   it, 

but  that  there  is  a  life  beyond  the  womb  of  which  they 

as   yet  know  nothing,  and  which  is  a  million   fold  more 

truly  life  than  anything  they  have  yet  been  able  even  to 

imagine.     But   the   greater   number   shake   their   yet  un- 

fashioned  heads   and  say  they  have  no  evidence  for  this 

that  will  stand  a  moment's  examination. 

"  '  Nay,'  answer  the  others,  'so  much  work,  so  elaborate, 

so  wondrous  as   that  whereon  we  are  now  so  busily  en- 

194 


The  Dedication 


gaged  must  have  a  purpose,  though  the  purpose  is  beyond 
our  grasp.' 

"  '  Never,'  reply  the  first  speakers ;  '  our  pleasure  in  the 
work  is  sufificient  justification  for  it.  Who  has  ever  par- 
taken of  this  Hfe  you  speak  of,  and  re-entered  into  the 
womb  to  tell  us  of  it?  Granted  that  some  few  have 
pretended  to  have  done  this,  but  how  completely  have 
their  stories  broken  down  when  subjected  to  the  tests  of 
sober  criticism.  No.  When  we  are  born  we  are  born,  and 
there  is  an  end  of  us.' 

"  But  in  the  hour  of  birth,  when  they  can  no  longer 
re-enter  the  womb  and  tell  the  others,  Behold  !  they  find 
that  it  is  not  so." 

Here  the  reader  again  closed  his  book  and  re- 
sumed his  place  in  the  apse. 


t95 


CHAPTER   XVI 

PROFESSOR  HANKY  PREACHES  A  SERMON,  IN  THE 
COURSE  OF  WHICH  MY  FATHER  DECLARES  HIM- 
SELF  TO   BE   THE   SUNCHILD 

Professor  Hanky  then  went  up  into  the  pulpit, 
richly  but  soberly  robed  in  vestments  the  exact 
nature  of  which  I  cannot  determine.  His  carriage 
was  dignified,  and  the  harsh  lines  on  his  face  gave 
it  a  strong  individuality,  which,  though  it  did  not 
attract,  conveyed  an  impression  of  power  that 
could  not  fail  to  interest.  As  soon  as  he  had 
given  attention  time  to  fix  itself  upon  him,  he 
began  his  sermon  without  text  or  preliminary 
matter  of  any  kind,  and  apparently  without  notes. 
He  spoke  clearly  and  very  quietly,  especially  at 
the  beginning  ;  he  used  action  whenever  it  could 
point  his  meaning,  or  give  it  life  and  colour,  but 
there  was  no  approach  to  staginess  or  even  orato- 
rical display.  In  fact,  he  spoke  as  one  who  meant 
what  he  was  saying,  and  desired  that  his  hearers 
should  accept  his  meaning,  fully  confident  in  his 
good  faith.  His  use  of  pause  was  effective.  After 
the  word  "  mistake,"  at  the  end  of  the  opening 
sentence,  he  held  up  his  half-bent  hand  and 
paused  for  full  three   seconds,  looking  intently  at 

his   audience   as  he   did   so.     Every  one  felt   the 

196 


Prof.   Hanky's  Sermon 

idea  to  be  here  enounced  that  was  to  dominate 
the  sermon. 

The  sermon — so  much  of  it  as  I  can  find  room 
for — was  as  follows  : — 

"  My  friends,  let  there  be  no  mistake.  At  such  a 
time,  as  this,  it  is  well  we  should  look  back  upon  the 
path  by  which  we  have  travelled,  and  forward  to 
the  goal  towards  which  we  are  tending.  As  it  was 
necessary  that  the  material  foundations  of  this 
building  should  be  so  sure  that  there  shall  be  no 
subsidence  in  the  superstructure,  so  is  it  not  less 
necessary  to  ensure  that  there  shall  be  no  subsid- 
ence in  the  immaterial  structure  that  we  have 
raised  in  consequence  of  the  Sunchild's  sojourn 
among  us.  Therefore,  my  friends,  I  again  say, '  Let 
there  be  no  mistake.'  Each  stone  that  goes  towards 
the  uprearing  of  this  visible  fane,  each  human  soul 
that  does  its  part  in  building  the  invisible  temple  of 
our  national  faith,  is  bearing  witness  to,  and  lending 
its  support  to,  that  which  is  either  the  truth  of 
truths,  or  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  dream. 

"  My  friends,  this  is  the  only  possible  alternative. 

He  in  whose  name  we  are  here  assembled,  is  either 

worthy  of  more  reverential  honour  than  we  can  ever 

pay  him,  or  he  is  worthy  of  no  more  honour  than 

any  other  honourable  man  among  ourselves.    There 

can    be  no   halting   between   these   two   opinions. 

The  question  of  questions  is,  was  he  the  child  of 

the  tutelary  god  of  this  world — the  sun,  and  is  it  to 

the  palace  of  the  sun  that  he  returned  when  he  left 

us,  or  was  he,   as  some  amongst  us  still  do  not 

197 


Erewhon   Revisited 

hesitate  to  maintain,  a  mere  man,  escaping  by  un- 
usual but  strictly  natural  means  to  some  part  of 
this  earth  with  which  we  are  unacquainted.  My 
friends,  either  we  are  on  a  right  path  or  on  a  very 
wrong  one,  and  in  a  matter  of  such  supreme  im- 
portance— there  must  be  no  mistake. 

"  I  need  not  remind  those  of  you  whose  privilege 
it  is  to  live  in  Sunch'ston,  of  the  charm  attendant 
on  the  Sunchild's  personal  presence  and  conversa- 
tion, nor  of  his  quick  sympathy,  his  keen  intellect, 
his  readiness  to  adapt  himself  to  the  capacities  of 
all  those  who  came  to  see  him  while  he  was  in 
prison.  He  adored  children,  and  it  was  on  them 
that  some  of  his  most  conspicuous  miracles  were 
performed.  Many  a  time  when  a  child  had  fallen 
md  hurt  itself,  was  he  known  to  make  the  place 
>>:ve\\  by  simply  kissing  it.  Nor  need  I  recall  to 
your  minds  the  spotless  purity  of  his  life — so  spot- 
less that  not  one  breath  of  slander  has  ever  dared 
to  visit  it.  I  was  one  of  the  not  very  many  who 
had  the  privilege  of  being  admitted  to  the  inner 
circle  of  his  friends  during  the  later  weeks  that  he 
was  amongst  us.  I  loved  him  dearly,  and  it  will 
ever  be  the  proudest  recollection  of  my  life  that 
he  deigned  to  return  me  no  small  measure  of 
affection." 

My  father,  furious  as  he  was  at  finding  himself 

dragged  into  complicity  with  this  man's  imposture, 

could  not  resist  a  smile  at  the  effrontery  with  which 

he  lowered  his  tone  here,  and  appeared  unwilling 

to  dwell  on  an  incident  which  he  could  not  recall 

19S 


Prof.   Hanky's  Sermon 

without  being  affected  almost  to  tears,  and  mere 
allusion  to  which,  had  involved  an  apparent  self- 
display  that  was  above  all  things  repugnant  to  him. 
What  a  difference  between  the  Hanky  of  Thursday 
evening  with  its  "  never  set  eyes  on  him  and  hope 
I  never  shall,"  and  the  Hanky  of  Sunday  morning, 
who  now  looked  as  modest  as  Cleopatra  might 
have  done  had  she  been  standing  godmother  to  a 
little  blue-eyed  girl — Bellerophon's  first-born  baby. 

Having  recovered  from  his  natural,  but  promptly 
repressed,  emotion,  the  Professor  continued  : — 

"  I  need  not  remind  you  of  the  purpose  for  which 
so  many  of  us,  from  so  many  parts  of  our  kingdom, 
are  here  assembled.  We  know  what  we  have  come 
hither  to  do  :  we  are  come  each  one  of  us  to  sign 
and  seal  by  his  presence  the  bond  of  his  assent 
to  those  momentous  changes,  which  have  found 
their  first  great  material  expression  in  the  temple 
that  you  see  around  you. 

"  You  all  know  how,  in  accordance  with  the  ex- 
pressed will  of  the  Sunchild,  the  Presidents  and 
Vice-Presidents  of  the  Musical  Banks  began  as  soon 
as  he  had  left  us  to  examine,  patiently,  carefully, 
earnestly,  and  without  bias  of  any  kind,  firstly  the 
evidences  in  support  of  the  Sunchild's  claim  to  be 
the  son  of  the  tutelar  deity  of  this  world,  and 
secondly  the  precise  nature  of  his  instructions  as 
regards  the  future  position  and  authority  of  the 
Musical  Banks. 

"  My  friends,  it  is  easy  to   understand  why  the 

Sunchild  should  have  given  us  these  instructions. 

199 


Erewhon   Revisited 

With  that  foresight  which  is  the  special  character- 
istic of  divine,  as  compared  with  human,  wisdom, 
he  desired  that  the  evidences  in  support  of  his 
superhuman  character  should  be  collected,  sifted, 
and  placed  on  record,  before  anything  was  either 
lost  through  the  death  of  those  who  could  alone 
substantiate  it,  or  unduly  supplied  through  the  en- 
thusiasm of  over-zealous  visionaries.  The  greater 
any  true  miracle  has  been,  the  more  certainly  will 
false  ones  accrete  round  it  ;  here,  then,  we  find 
the  explanation  of  the  command  the  Sunchild  gave 
to  us  to  gather,  verify,  and  record,  the  facts  of  his 
sojourn  here  in  Erewhon.  For  above  all  things 
he  held  it  necessary  to  ensure  that  there  should  be 
neither  mistake,  nor  even  possibility  of  mistake. 

"  Consider  for  a  moment  what  differences  of 
opinion  would  infallibly  have  arisen,  if  the  evidences 
for  the  miraculous  character  of  the  Sunchild's 
mission  had  been  conflicting — if  they  had  rested 
on  versions  each  claiming  to  be  equally  authorita- 
tive, but  each  hopelessly  irreconcilable  on  vital 
points  with  every  single  other.  What  would  future 
generations  have  said  in  answer  to  those  who  bade 
them  fling  all  human  experience  to  the  winds,  on 
the  strength  of  records  written  they  knew  not  cer- 
tainly by  whom,  nor  how  long  after  the  marvels 
that  they  recorded,  and  of  which  all  that  could  be 
certainly  said  was  that  no  two  of  them  told  the  same 
story  ? 

"  Who  that  believes  either  in  God  or  man — who 
with   any   self-respect,   or   respect   for  the  gift  of 

200 


Prof.  Hanky's  Sermon 

reason  with  which  God  had  endowed  him,  either 
would,  or  could,  believe  that  a  chariot  and  four 
horses  had  come  down  from  heaven,  and  gone  back 
again  with  human  or  quasi-human  occupants,  un- 
less the  evidences  for  the  fact  left  no  loophole  for 
escape  ?  If  a  single  loophole  were  left  him,  he 
would  be  unpardonable,  not  for  disbelieving  the 
story,  but  for  believing  it.  The  sin  against  God 
would  He  not  in  want  of  faith,  but  in  faith. 

"  My  friends,  there  are  two  sins  in  matters  of 
belief.  There  is  that  of  believing  on  too  little 
evidence,  and  that  of  requiring  too  much  before 
we  are  convinced.  The  guilt  of  the  latter  is  in- 
curred, alas  !  by  not  a  few  amongst  us  at  the 
present  day,  but  if  the  testimony  to  the  truth  of 
the  wondrous  event  so  faithfully  depicted  on  the 
picture  that  confronts  you  had  been  less  contempo- 
raneous, less  authoritative,  less  unanimous,  future 
generations — and  it  is  for  them  that  we  should  now 
provide — would  be  guilty  of  the  first-named,  and 
not  less  heinous  sin  if  they  believed  at  all. 

"Small  wonder,  then,  that  the  Sunchild,  having 
come  amongst  us  for  our  advantage,  not  his  own, 
would  not  permit  his  beneficent  designs  to  be 
endangered  by  the  discrepancies,  mythical  develop- 
ments, idiosyncracies,  and  a  hundred  other  defects 
inevitably  attendant  on  amateur  and  irresponsible 
recording.  Small  wonder,  then,  that  he  should 
have  chosen  the  officials  of  the  Musical  Banks, 
from  the  Presidents  and  Vice-Presidents  down- 
wards  to   be   the   authoritative   exponents   of  his 


Erewhon   Revisited 

teaching,  the  depositaries  of  his  traditions,  and  his 
representatives  here  on  earth  till  he  shall  again  see 
fit  to  visit  us.  For  he  will  come.  Nay  it  is  even 
possible  that  he  may  be  here  amongst  us  at  this 
very  moment,  disguised  so  that  none  may  know 
him,  and  intent  only  on  watching  our  devotion 
towards  him.  If  this  be  so,  let  me  implore  him,  in 
the  name  of  the  sun  his  father,  to  reveal  himself." 

Now  Hanky  had  already  given  my  father  more 
than  one  look  that  had  made  him  uneasy.  He  had 
evidently  recognised  him  as  the  supposed  ranger 
of  last  Thursday  evening.  Twice  he  had  run  his 
eye  like  a  searchlight  over  the  front  benches 
opposite  to  him,  and  when  the  beam  had  reached 
my  father  there  had  been  no  more  searching.  It 
was  beginning  to  dawn  upon  my  father  that  George 
might  have  discovered  that  he  was  not  Professor 
Panky  ;  was  it  for  this  reason  that  these  two  young 
special  constables,  though  they  gave  up  their 
places,  still  kept  so  close  to  him  ?  Was  George 
only  waiting  his  opportunity  to  arrest  him — not  of 
course  even  suspecting  who  he  was — but  as  a 
foreign  devil  who  had  tried  to  pass  himself  off  as 
Professor  Panky  ?  Had  this  been  the  meaning  of 
his  having  followed  him  to  Fairmead  ?  And  should 
he  have  to  be  thrown  into  the  Blue  Pool  by  George 
after  all  ?  "  It  would  serve  me,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"  richly  right." 

These  fears  which  had  been  taking  shape  for 
some  few  minutes  were  turned  almost  to  certain- 
ties by  the  half-contemptuous  glance  Hanky  threw 


Prof.   Hanky's  Sermon 

towards  him  as  he  uttered  what  was  obviously 
intended  as  a  challenge.  He  saw  that  all  was 
over,  and  was  starting  to  his  feet  to  declare  him- 
self, and  thus  fall  into  the  trap  that  Hanky  was 
laying  for  him,  when  George  gripped  him  tightly  by 
the  knee  and  whispered,  "  Don't — you  are  in  great 
danger."     And  he  smiled  kindly  as  he  spoke. 

My  father  sank  back  dumbfounded.  "  You  know 
me  ?"  he  whispered  in  reply. 

"  Perfectly.  So  does  Hanky,  so  does  my  mother  ; 
say  no  more,"  and  he  again  smiled. 

George,  as  my  father  afterwards  learned,  had 
hoped  that  he  would  reveal  himself,  and  had  deter- 
mined in  spite  of  his  mother's  instructions,  to  give 
him  an  opportunity  of  doing  so.  It  was  for  this 
reason  that  he  had  not  arrested  him  quietly,  as 
he  could  very  well  have  done,  before  the  service 
began.  He  wished  to  discover  what  manner  of 
man  his  father  was,  and  was  quite  happy  as  soon 
as  he  saw  that  he  would  have  spoken  out  if  he  had 
not  been  checked.  He  had  not  yet  caught  Hanky's 
motive  in  trying  to  goad  my  father,  but  on  seeing 
that  he  was  trying  to  do  this,  he  knew  that  a  trap 
was  being  laid,  and  that  my  father  must  not  be 
allowed  to  speak. 

Almost  immediately,  however,  he  perceived  that 
while  his  eyes  had  been  turned  on  Hanky,  two 
burly  vergers  had  wormed  their  way  through  the 
crowd  and  taken  their  stand  close  to  his  two  bro- 
thers.   Then  he  understood,  and  understood  also 

how  to  frustrate. 

203 


Erewhon  Revisited 

As  for  my  father,  George's  ascendancy  over  him 
— quite  felt  by  George — was  so  absolute  that  he 
could  think  of  nothing  now  but  the  exceeding  great 
joy  of  finding  his  fears  groundless,  and  of  deliver- 
ing himself  up  to  his  son's  guidance  in  the  assur- 
ance that  the  void  in  his  heart  was  filled,  and  that 
his  wager  not  only  would  be  held  as  won,  but  was 
being  already  paid.  How  they  had  found  out,  why 
he  was  not  to  speak  as  he  would  assuredly  have 
done — for  he  was  in  a  white  heat  of  fury — what  did 
it  all  matter  now  that  he  had  found  that  which  he 
had  feared  he  should  fail  to  find  ?  He  gave  George 
a  puzzled  smile,  and  composed  himself  as  best  he 
could  to  hear  the  continuation  of  Hanky's  sermon, 
which  was  as  follows  : — 

"  Who  could  the  Sunchild  have  chosen,  even 
though  he  had  been  gifted  with  no  more  than 
human  sagacity,  but  the  body  of  men  whom  he 
selected  ?  It  becomes  me  but  ill  to  speak  so 
warmly  in  favour  of  that  body  of  whom  I  am  the 
least  worthy  member,  but  what  other  is  there  in 
Erewhon  so  above  all  suspicion  of  slovenliness, 
self-seeking,  preconceived  bias,  or  bad  faith  ?  If 
there  was  one  set  of  qualities  more  essential  than 
another  for  the  conduct  of  the  investigations  en- 
trusted to  us  by  the  Sunchild,  it  was  those  that 
turn  on  meekness  and  freedom  from  all  spiritual 
pride.  I  believe  I  can  say  quite  truly  that  these 
are  the  qualities  for  which  Bridgeford  is  more  espe- 
cially renowned.    The  readiness  of  her  Professors 

to  learn  even  from  those  who  at  first  sight  may 

204 


Prof.   Hanky's  Sermon 

seem  least  able  to  instruct  them — the  gentleness 
with  which  they  correct  an  opponent  if  they  feel 
it  incumbent  upon  them  to  do  so,  the  promptitude 
with  which  they  acknowledge  error  when  it  is 
pointed  out  to  them  and  quit  a  position  no  matter 
how  deeply  they  have  been  committed  to  it,  at  the 
first  moment  in  which  they  see  that  they  cannot 
hold  it  righteously,  their  delicate  sense  of  honour, 
their  utter  immunity  from  what  the  Sunchild  used 
to  call  log-rolling  or  intrigue,  the  scorn  with 
which  they  regard  anything  like  hitting  below  the 
belt  —  these  I  believe  I  may  truly  say  are  the 
virtues  for  which  Bridgeford  is  pre-eminently  re- 
nowned." 

The  Professor  went  on  to  say  a  great  deal  more 
about  the  fitness  of  Bridgeford  and  the  Musical 
Bank  managers  for  the  task  imposed  on  them  by  the 
Sunchild,  but  here  my  father's  attention  flagged — 
nor,  on  looking  at  the  verbatim  report  of  the 
sermon  that  appeared  next  morning  in  the  leading 
Sunch'ston  journal,  do  I  see  reason  to  reproduce 
Hanky's  words  on  this  head.  It  was  all  to  shew 
that  there  had  been  no  possibility  of  mistake. 

Meanwhile  George  was  writing  on  a  scrap  of 
paper  as  though  he  was  taking  notes  of  the  sermon. 
Presently  he  slipped  this  into  my  father's  hand. 
It  ran  :— 

**  You  see  those  vergers  standing  near  my 
brothers,  who  gave  up  their  seats  to  us.  Hanky 
tried  to  goad  you  into  speaking  that  they  might 
arrest  you,  and  get  you  into  the  Bank  prisons.     If 

205 


Erewhon   Revisited 

you  fall  into  their  hands  you  are  lost.  I  must 
arrest  you  instantly  on  a  charge  of  poaching  on  the 
King's  preserves,  and  make  you  my  prisoner.  Let 
those  vergers  catch  sight  of  the  warrant  which  I 
shall  now  give  you.  Read  it  and  return  it  to  me. 
Come  with  me  quietly  after  service.  I  think  you 
had  better  not  reveal  yourself  at  all." 

As  soon  as  he  had  given  my  father  time  to  read 
the  foregoing,  George  took  a  warrant  out  of  his 
pocket.  My  father  pretended  to  read  it  and  re- 
turned it.  George  then  laid  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  and  in  an  undertone  arrested  him.  He 
then  wrote  on  another  scrap  of  paper  and  passed 
it  on  to  the  elder  of  his  two  brothers.  It  was  to 
the  effect  that  he  had  now  arrested  my  father,  and 
that  if  the  vergers  attempted  in  any  way  to  interfere 
between  him  and  his  prisoner,  his  brothers  were  to 
arrest  both  of  them,  which,  as  special  constables, 
they  had  power  to  do. 

Yram   had  noted  Hanky's  attempt  to   goad  my 

father,  and  had  not  been  prepared  for  his  stealing  a 

march  upon  her  by  trying  to  get  my  father  arrested 

by  Musical  Bank  officials,  rather  than  by  her  son. 

On  the  preceding  evening  this  last  plan  had  been 

arranged  on  ;    and  she  knew  nothing  of  the  note 

that  Hanky  had  sent  an  hour  or  two  later  to  the 

Manager  of   the  temple — the   substance  of  which 

the  reader  can  sufficiently  guess.     When  she  had 

heard    Hanky's   words   and   saw   the   vergers,   she 

was  for  a  few  minutes  seriously  alarmed,  but  she 

was  reassured  when  she  saw  George  give  my  father 

206 


Prof.  Hanky's  Sermon 

the  warrant,  and  her  two  sons  evidently  explaining 
the  position  to  the  vergers. 

Hanky  had  by  this  time  changed  his  theme,  and 
was  warning  his  hearers  of  the  dangers  that  would 
follow  on  the  legalization  of  the  medical  profession, 
and  the  repeal  of  the  edicts  against  machines. 
Space  forbids  me  to  give  his  picture  of  the  horrible 
tortures  that  future  generations  would  be  put  to  by 
medical  men,  if  these  were  not  duly  kept  in  check 
by  the  influence  of  the  Musical  Banks ;  the  horrors 
of  the  inquisition  in  the  middle  ages  are  nothing  to 
what  he  depicted  as  certain  to  ensue  if  medical  men 
were  ever  to  have  much  money  at  their  command. 
The  only  people  in  whose  hands  money  might  be 
trusted  safely  were  those  who  presided  over  the 
Musical  Banks.  This  tirade  was  followed  by  one 
not  less  alarming  about  the  growth  of  materialistic 
tendencies  among  the  artisans  employed  in  the 
production  of  mechanical  inventions.  My  father, 
though  his  eyes  had  been  somewhat  opened  by  the 
second  of  the  two  processions  he  had  seen  on  his 
way  to  Sunch'ston,  was  not  prepared  to  find  that  in 
spite  of  the  superficially  almost  universal  acceptance 
of  the  new  faith,  there  was  a  powerful,  and  it 
would  seem  growing,  undercurrent  of  scepticism, 
with  a  desire  to  reduce  his  escape  with  my  mother 
to  a  purely  natural  occurence. 

"  It  is  not  enough,"  said  Hanky,  "  that  the 
Sunchild  should  have  ensured  the  preparation 
of  authoritative  evidence  of  his  supernatural  char- 
acter.   The  evidences  happily  exist  in  overwhelm- 

207 


Erewhon   Revisited 

ing  strength,  but  they  must  be  brought  home  to 
minds  that  as  yet  have  stubbornly  refused  to 
receive  them.  During  the  last  five  years  there  has 
been  an  enormous  increase  in  the  number  of  those 
whose  occupation  in  the  manufacture  of  machines 
inclines  them  to  a  materialistic  explanation  even 
of  the  most  obviously  miraculous  events,  and  the 
growth  of  this  class  in  our  midst  constituted,  and 
still  constitutes,  a  grave  danger  to  the  state. 

"  It  was  to  meet  this  that  the  society  was  formed 
on  behalf  of  which  I  appeal  fearlessly  to  your 
generosity.  It  is  called,  as  most  of  you  doubtless 
know,  the  Sunchild  Evidence  Society ;  and  his 
Majesty  the  King  graciously  consented  to  become 
its  Patron.  This  society  not  only  collects  additional 
evidences — indeed  it  is  entirely  due  to  its  labours 
that  the  precious  relic  now  in  this  temple  was  dis- 
covered— but  it  is  its  beneficent  purpose  to  lay  those 
that  have  been  authoritatively  investigated  before 
men  who,  if  left  to  themselves,  would  either  neglect 
them  altogether,  or  worse  still  reject  them. 

"For  the  first  year  or  two  the  efforts  of  the 
society  met  with  but  little  success  among  those 
for  whose  benefit  they  were  more  particularly  in- 
tended, but  during  the  present  year  the  working 
classes  in  some  cities  and  towns  (stimulated  very 
much  by  the  lectures  of  my  illustrious  friend  Pro- 
fessor Panky)  have  shewn  a  most  remarkable  and 
zealous  interest  in  Sunchild  evidences,  and  have 
formed  themselves  into  local  branches  for  the  study 

and  defence  of  Sunchild  truth. 

208 


Prof.   Hanky's  Sermon 

"  Yet  in  spite  of  all  this  need — of  all  this  patient 
labour  and  really  very  gratifying  success — the  sub- 
scriptions to  the  society  no  longer  furnish  it  with 
its  former  very  modest  income — an  income  which 
is  deplorably  insufficient  if  the  organization  is  to  be 
kept  effective,  and  the  work  adequately  performed. 
In  spite  of  the  most  rigid  economy,  the  committee 
have  been  compelled  to  part  with  a  considerable 
portion  of  their  small  reserve  fund  (provided  by  a 
legacy)  to  tide  over  difficulties.  But  this  method 
of  balancing  expenditure  and  income  is  very  un- 
satisfactory, and  cannot  be  long  continued. 

"  I  am  led  to  plead  for  the  society  with  especial 
insistence  at  the  present  time,  inasmuch  as  more 
than  one  of  those  whose  unblemished  life  has  made 
them  fitting  recipients  of  such  a  signal  favour,  have 
recently  had  visions  informing  them  that  the  Sun- 
child  will  again  shortly  visit  us.  We  know  not 
when  he  will  come,  but  when  he  comes,  my  friends, 
let  him  not  find  us  unmindful  of,  nor  ungrateful  for, 
the  inestimable  services  he  has  rendered  us.  For 
come  he  surely  will.  Either  in  winter,  what  time 
icicles  hang  by  the  wall  and  milk  comes  frozen  home 
in  the  pail — or  in  summer  when  days  are  at  their 
longest  and  the  mowing  grass  is  about — there  will 
be  an  hour,  either  at  morn,  or  eve,  or  in  the  middle 
day,  when  he  will  again  surely  come.  May  it  be 
mine  to  be  among  those  who  are  then  present  to 
receive  him." 

Here  he  again  glared  at  my  father,  whose  blood 

was  boiling.     George  had  not  positively  forbidden 

209  O 


Erewhon   Revisited 


him  to  speak  out ;  he  therefore  sprang  to  his  feet, 
"  You  lying  hound,"  he  cried,  "  I  am  the  Sunchild, 
and  you  know  it." 

George,  who  knew  that  he  had  my  father  in  his 
own  hands,  made  no  attempt  to  stop  him,  and 
was  deHghted  that  he  should  have  declared  himself 
though  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  tell  him  not  to 
do  so.  Yram  turned  pale.  Hanky  roared  out, 
"Tear  him  in  pieces — leave  not  a  single  limb  on 
his  body.  Take  him  out  and  burn  him  alive." 
The  vergers  made  a  dash  for  him — but  George's 
brothers  seized  them.  The  crowd  seemed  for  a 
moment  inclined  to  do  as  Hanky  bade  them,  but 
Yram  rose  from  her  place,  and  held  up  her  hand 
as  one  who  claimed  attention.  She  advanced  to- 
wards George  and  my  father  as  unconcernedly 
as  though  she  were  merely  walking  out  of  church, 
but  she  still  held  her  hand  uplifted.  All  eyes 
were  turned  on  her,  as  well  as  on  George  and  my 
father,  and  the  icy  calm  of  her  self-possession 
chilled  those  who  were  inclined  for  the  moment 
to  take  Hanky's  words  literally.  There  was  not 
a  trace  of  fluster  in  her  gait,  action,  or  words,  as 
she  said — 

"  My  friends,  this  temple,  and  this  day,  must  not 
be  profaned  with  blood.  My  son  will  take  this 
poor  madman  to  the  prison.  Let  him  be  judged 
and  punished  according  to  law.  Make  room,  that 
he  and  my  son  may  pass." 

Then,  turning  to  my  father,  she  said,  "  Go  quietly 
with  the  Ranger." 


Prof.   Hanky's  Sermon 

Having  so  spoken,  she  returned  to  her  seat  as 
unconcernedly  as  she  had  left  it. 

Hanky  for  a  time  continued  to  foam  at  the  mouth 
and  roar  out,  "  Tear  him  to  pieces !  burn  him 
alive  ! "  but  when  he  saw  that  there  was  no  further 
hope  of  getting  the  people  to  obey  him,  he  collapsed 
on  to  a  seat  in  his  pulpit,  mopped  his  bald  head, 
and  consoled  himself  with  a  great  pinch  of  a  powder 
which  corresponds  very  closely  to  our  own  snuff. 

George  led  my  father  out  by  the  side  door  at  the 
north  end  of  the  western  aisle ;  the  people  eyed 
him  intently,  but  made  way  for  him  without  de- 
monstration. One  voice  alone  was  heard  to  cry 
out,  "  Yes,  he  is  the  Sunchild  ! "  My  father  glanced 
at  the  speaker,  and  saw  that  he  was  the  interpreter 
who  had  taught  him  the  Erewhonian  language 
when  he  was  in  prison. 

George,  seeing  a  special  constable  close  by,  told 
him  to  bid  his  brothers  release  the  vergers,  and  let 
them  arrest  the  interpreter — this  the  vergers,  foiled 
as  they  had  been  in  the  matter  of  my  father's  arrest, 
were  very  glad  to  do.  So  the  poor  interpreter,  to 
his  dismay,  was  lodged  at  once  in  one  of  the  Bank 
prison-cells,  where  he  could  do  no  further  harm. 


an 


CHAPTER  XVII 

GEORGE  TAKES  HIS  FATHER  TO  PRISON,  AND  THERE 
OBTAINS   SOME  USEFUL   INFORMATION 

By  this  time  George  had  got  my  father  into  the  open 
square,  where  he  was  surprised  to  find  that  a  large 
bonfire  had  been  made  and  Hghted.  There  had 
been  nothing  of  the  kind  an  hour  before ;  the 
wood,  therefore,  must  have  been  piled  and  lighted 
while  people  had  been  in  church.  He  had  no  time 
at  the  moment  to  enquire  why  this  had  been  done, 
but  later  on  he  discovered  that  on  the  Sunday 
morning  the  Manager  of  the  new  temple  had  ob- 
tained leave  from  the  Mayor  to  have  the  wood 
piled  in  the  square,  representing  that  this  was 
Professor  Hanky's  contribution  to  the  festivities 
of  the  day.  There  had,  it  seemed,  been  no  inten- 
tion of  lighting  it  until  nightfall ;  but  it  had  acci- 
dentally caught  fire  through  the  carelessness  of  a 
workman,  much  about  the  time  when  Hanky  began 
to  preach.  No  one  for  a  moment  believed  that 
there  had  been  any  sinister  intention,  or  that  Pro- 
fessor Hanky  when  he  urged  the  crowd  to  burn 
my  father  alive,  even  knew  that  there  was  a  pile 
of  wood  in  the  square  at  all — much  less  that  it  had 
been  lighted — for  he  could  hardly  have  supposed 
that   the    wood   had   been   got    together   so   soon 


In   Prison 


Nevertheless  both  George  and  my  father,  when 
they  knew  all  that  had  passed,  congratulated  them- 
selves on  the  fact  that  my  father  had  not  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  vergers,  who  would  probably  have 
tried  to  utilise  the  accidental  fire,  though  in  no  case 
is  it  likely  they  would  have  succeeded. 

As  soon  as  they  were  inside  the  gaol,  the  old 
Master  recognised  my  father.  "  Bless  my  heart — 
what  ?  You  here,  again,  Mr.  Higgs  ?  Why,  I 
thought  you  were  in  the  palace  of  the  sun  your 
father." 

"  I  wish  I  was,"  answered  my  father,  shaking 
hands  with  him,  but  he  could  say  no  more. 

"You  are  as  safe  here  as  if  you  were,"  said 
George  laughing,  "and  safer."  Then  turning  to 
his  grandfather,  he  said,  "  You  have  the  record  of 
Mr.  Higgs's  marks  and  measurements  ?  I  know 
you  have  :  take  him  to  his  old  cell ;  it  is  the  best 
in  the  prison ;  and  then  please  bring  me  the 
record." 

The  old  man  took  George  and  my  father  to  the 
cell  which  he  had  occupied  twenty  years  earlier — 
but  I  cannot  stay  to  describe  his  feelings  on  find- 
ing himself  again  within  it.  The  moment  his 
grandfather's  back  was  turned,  George  said  to  my 
father,  "And  now  shake  hands  also  with  your  son." 

As  he  spoke  he  took  my  father's  hand  and 
pressed  it  warmly  between  both  his  own. 

"Then  you  know  you  are  my  son,"  said  my 
father  as  steadily  as  the  strong  emotion  that 
mastered  him  would  permit. 

213 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"  Certainly." 

"  But  you  did  not  know  this  when  I  was  walking 
with  you  on  Friday  ?  " 

"Of  course  not.  I  thought  you  were  Professor 
Panky ;  if  I  had  not  taken  you  for  one  of  the 
two  persons  named  in  your  permit,  I  should  have 
questioned  you  closely,  and  probably  ended  by 
throwing  you  into  the  Blue  Pool."  He  shuddered 
as  he  said  this. 

"  But  you  knew  who  I  was  when  you  called  me 
Panky  in  the  temple  ?  " 

"Quite  so.  My  mother  told  me  everything  on 
Friday  evening." 

"And  that  is  why  you  tried  to  find  me  at  Fair- 
mead  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  where  in  the  world  were  you  ?  " 

"  I  was  inside  the  Musical  Bank  of  the  town, 
resting  and  reading." 

George  laughed,  and  said,  "  On  purpose  to 
hide?" 

"  Oh  no ;  pure  chance.  But  on  Friday  even- 
ing ?  How  could  your  mother  have  found  out 
by  that  time  that  I  was  in  Erewhon  ?  Am  I  on 
my  head  or  my  heels  ?  " 

"  On  your  heels,  my  father,  which  shall  take  you 
back  to  your  own  country  as  soon  as  we  can  get 
you  out  of  this." 

"What  have  I  done  to  deserve  so  much  good- 
will ?  I  have  done  you  nothing  but  harm  ?  "  Again 
he  was  quite  overcome. 

George  patted  him  gently  on  the  hand,  and  said, 
214 


In   Prison 


"You  made  a  bet  and  you  won  it.  During  the 
very  short  time  that  we  can  be  together,  you  shall 
be  paid  in  full,  and  may  heaven  protect  us  both." 

As  soon  as  my  father  could  speak  he  said,  "  But 
how  did  your  mother  find  out  that  I  was  in  Ere- 
whon  ?  " 

"  Hanky  and  Panky  were  dining  with  her,  and 
they  told  her  some  things  that  she  thought  strange. 
She  cross-questioned  them,  put  two  and  two  to- 
gether, learned  that  you  had  got  their  permit  out 
of  them,  saw  that  you  intended  to  return  on 
Friday,  and  concluded  that  you  would  be  sleeping 
in  Sunch'ston.  She  sent  for  me,  told  me  all,  bade 
me  scour  Sunch'ston  to  find  you,  intending  that 
you  should  be  at  once  escorted  safely  over  the 
preserves  by  me.  I  found  your  inn,  but  you  had 
given  us  the  slip.  I  tried  first  Fairmead  and  then 
Clearwater,  but  did  not  find  you  till  this  morning. 
For  reasons  too  long  to  repeat,  my  mother  warned 
Hanky  and  Panky  that  you  would  be  in  the  temple  ; 
whereon  Hanky  tried  to  get  you  into  his  clutches. 
Happily  he  failed,  but  if  I  had  known  what  he  was 
doing  I  should  have  arrested  you  before  the  ser- 
vice. I  ought  to  have  done  this,  but  I  wanted  you 
to  win  your  wager,  and  I  shall  get  you  safely  away 
in  spite  of  them.  My  mother  will  not  like  my 
having  let  you  hear  Hanky's  sermon  and  declare 
yourself." 

"  You  half  told  me  not  to  say  who  I  was." 

"  Yes,  but  I  was  delighted  when  you  disobeyed 

me." 

ai5 


Erewhon  Revisited 

"  I  did  it  very  badly.  I  never  rise  to  great  occa- 
sions, I  always  fall  to  them,  but  these  things  must 
come  as  they  come." 

"  You  did  it  as  well  as  it  could  be  done,  and  good 
will  come  of  it." 

"And  now,"  he  continued,  "describe  exactly  all 
that  passed  between  you  and  the  Professors.  On 
which  side  of  Panky  did  Hanky  sit,  and  did  they 
sit  north  and  south  or  east  and  west  ?     How  did 

you  get oh  yes,  I  know  that — you  told  them  it 

would  be  of  no  further  use  to  them.  Tell  me  all 
else  you  can." 

My  father  said  that  the  Professors  were  sitting 
pretty  well  east  and  west,  so  that  Hanky,  who  was 
on  the  east  side,  nearest  the  mountains,  had  Panky, 
who  was  on  the  Sunch'ston  side,  on  his  right  hand. 
George  made  a  note  of  this.  My  father  then  told 
what  the  reader  already  knows,  but  when  he  came 
to  the  measurement  of  the  boots,  George  said, 
"Take  your  boots  off,"  and  began  taking  off  his 
own.  "  Foot  for  foot,"  said  he,  "we  are  not  father 
and  son,  but  brothers.  Yours  will*fit  me ;  they  are 
less  worn  than  mine,  but  I  daresay  you  will  not 
mind  that." 

On  this  George  ex  abundanti  cauteld  knocked  a 

nail  out  of  the  right  boot  that  he  had  been  wearing 

and  changed  boots  with  my  father  ;  but  he  thought 

it  more  plausible  not  to  knock  out  exactly  the  same 

nail  that  was  missing  on  my  father's  boot.     When 

the  change  was  made,  each  found — or  said  he  found 

— the  other's  boots  quite  comfortable. 

216 


In   Prison 

My  father  all  the  time  felt  as  though  he  were  a 
basket  given  to  a  dog.  The  dog  had  got  him,  was 
proud  of  him,  and  no  one  must  try  to  take  him  away. 
The  promptitude  with  which  George  took  to  him, 
the  obvious  pleasure  he  had  in  "running"  him, 
his  quick  judgement,  verging  as  it  should  towards 
rashness,  his  confidence  that  my  father  trusted  him 
without  reserve,  the  conviction  of  perfect  openness 
that  was  conveyed  by  the  way  in  which  his  eyes 
never  budged  from  my  father's  when  he  spoke  to 
him,  his  genial,  kindly,  manner,  perfect  physical 
health,  and  the  air  he  had  of  being  on  the  best 
possible  terms  with  himself  and  every  one  else — 
the  combination  of  all  this  so  overmastered  my 
poor  father  (who  indeed  had  been  sufficiently 
mastered  before  he  had  been  five  minutes  in 
George's  company)  that  he  resigned  himself  as 
gratefully  to  being  a  basket,  as  George  had  cheer- 
fully undertaken  the  task  of  carrying  him. 

In  passing  I  may  say  that  George  could  never 
get  his  own  boots  back  again,  though  he  tried  more 
than  once  to  do  so.  My  father  always  made  some 
excuse.  They  were  the  only  memento  of  George 
that  he  brought  home  with  him  ;  I  wonder  that  he 
did  not  ask  for  a  lock  of  his  hair,  but  he  did  not. 
He  had  the  boots  put  against  a  wall  in  his  bed- 
room, where  he  could  see  them  from  his  bed,  and 
during  his  illness,  while  consciousness  yet  remained 
with  him,  I  saw  his  eyes  continually  turn  towards 
them.     George,  in  fact,  dominated  him  as  long  as 

anything   in  this  world   could   do   so.     Nor   do    I 

217 


Erewhon  Revisited 

wonder  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  love  his  memory  the 
better ;  for  I  too,  as  will  appear  later,  have  seen 
George,  and  whatever  little  jealousy  I  may  have 
felt,  vanished  on  my  finding  him  almost  instan- 
taneously gain  the  same  ascendancy  over  me  his 
brother,  that  he  had  gained  over  his  and  my  father. 
But  of  this  no  more  at  present.  Let  me  return  to 
the  gaol  in  Sunch'ston. 

"Tell  me  more,"  said  George,  "about  the  Pro- 
fessors." 

My  father  told  him  about  the  nuggets,  the  sale 
of  his  kit,  the  receipt  he  had  given  for  the  money, 
and  how  he  had  got  the  nuggets  back  from  a  tree, 
the  position  of  which  he  described. 

"I  know  the  tree;  have  you  got  the  nuggets  here?" 

"  Here  they  are,  with  the  receipt,  and  the  pocket 
handkerchief  marked  with  Hanky's  name.  The 
pocket  handkerchief  was  found  wrapped  round 
some  dried  leaves  that  we  call  tea,  but  I  have  not 
got  these  with  me."  As  he  spoke  he  gave  every- 
thing to  George,  who  showed  the  utmost  delight 
in  getting  possession  of  them. 

"  I  suppose  the  blanket  and  the  rest  of  the  kit 
are  still  in  the  tree  ?  " 

"  Unless  Hanky  and  Panky  have  got  them  away, 
or  some  one  has  found  them." 

"This  is  not  likely.     I  will  now  go  to  my  office, 

but  I  will  come  back  very  shortly.     My  grandfather 

shall  bring  you  something  to  eat  at  once.     I  will 

tell    him    to    send    enough    for  two" — which   he 

accordingly  did. 

218 


In   Prison 


On  reaching  the  office,  he  told  his  next  brother 
(whom  he  had  made  an  under-ranger)  to  go  to  the 
tree  he  described,  and  bring  back  the  bundle  he 
should  find  concealed  therein.  "  You  can  go  there 
and  back,"  he  said,  "  in  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  I 
shall  want  the  bundle  by  that  time." 

The  brother,  whose  name  I  never  rightly  caught, 
set  out  at  once.  As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  George 
took  from  a  drawer  the  feathers  and  bones  of 
quails,  that  he  had  shown  my  father  on  the 
morning  when  he  met  him.  He  divided  them  in 
half,  and  made  them  into  two  bundles,  one  of 
which  he  docketed,  "Bones  of  quails  eaten,  XIX. 
xii.  29,  by  Professor  Hanky,  P.O.W.W.,  &c."  And 
he  labelled  Panky's  quail  bones  in  like  fashion. 

Having  done  this,  he  returned  to  the  gaol,  but  on 
his  way  he  looked  in  at  the  Mayor's,  and  left  a  note 
saying  that  he  should  be  at  the  gaol,  where  any 
message  would  reach  him,  but  that  he  did  not  wish 
to  meet  Professors  Hanky  and  Panky  for  another 
couple  of  hours.  It  was  now  about  half-past 
twelve,  and  he  caught  sight  of  a  crowd  coming 
quietly  out  of  the  temple,  whereby  he  knew  that 
Hanky  would  soon  be  at  the  Mayor's  house. 

Dinner  was  brought  in  almost  at  the  moment 
when  George  returned  to  the  gaol.  As  soon  as  it 
was  over  George  said  : — 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  you  have  made  no  mistake 

about  the  way  in  which  you  got  the  permit  out  of 

the  Professors  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure.     I  told  them  they  would  not  want 
219 


Erewhon   Revisited 

it,  and  said  I  could  save  them  trouble  if  they  gave 
it  me.  They  never  suspected  why  I  wanted  it. 
Where  do  you  think  I  may  be  mistaken  ?  " 

"You  sold  your  nuggets  for  rather  less  than  a 
twentieth  part  of  their  value,  and  you  threw  in 
some  curiosities,  that  would  have  fetched  about 
half  as  much  as  you  got  for  the  nuggets.  You 
say  you  did  this  because  you  wanted  money  to 
keep  you  going  till  you  could  sell  some  of  your 
nuggets.  This  sounds  well  at  first,  but  the  sacrifice 
is  too  great  to  be  plausible  when  considered.  It 
looks  more  like  a  case  of  good  honest  manly 
straightforward  corruption." 

"  But  surely  you  believe  me  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  do.  I  believe  every  syllable  that 
comes  from  your  mouth,  but  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
make  out  that  the  story  was  as  it  was  not,  unless  I 
am  quite  certain  what  it  really  was." 

"  It  was  exactly  as  I  have  told  you." 

"That  is  enough.  And  now,  may  I  tell  my 
mother  that  you  will  put  yourself  in  her,  and  the 
Mayor's,  and  my,  hands,  and  will  do  whatever 
we  tell  you  ?  " 

"  I  will  be  obedience  itself — but  you  will  not  ask 
me  to  do  anything  that  will  make  your  mother  or 
you  think  less  well  of  me  ?  " 

"  If  we  tell  you  what  you  are  to  do,  we  shall  not 
think  any  the  worse  of  you  for  doing  it.  Then  I 
may  say  to  my  mother  that  you  will  be  good  and 
give  no  trouble — not  even  though  we  bid  you  shake 
hands  with  Hanky  and  Panky  ?" 


In  Prison 


"  I  will  embrace  them  and  kiss  them  on  both 
cheeks,  if  you  and  she  tell  me  to  do  so.  But  what 
about  the  Mayor  ?  " 

"  He  has  known  everything,  and  condoned  every- 
thing, these  last  twenty  years.  He  will  leave  every- 
thing to  my  mother  and  me." 

"Shall  I  have  to  see  him?" 

"Certainly.  You  must  be  brought  up  before 
him  to-morrow  morning." 

"  How  can  I  look  him  in  the  face  ?" 

"As  you  would  me,  or  any  one  else.  It  is  under- 
stood among  us  that  nothing  happened.  Things 
may  have  looked  as  though  they  had  happened, 
but  they  did  not  happen." 

"And  you  are  not  yet  quite  twenty  ?" 

"No,  but  I  am  son  to  my  mother — and,"  he 
added,  "to  one  who  can  stretch  a  point  or  two 
in  the  way  of  honesty  as  well  as  other  people." 

Having  said  this  with  a  laugh,  he  again  took  my 
father's  hand  between  both  his,  and  went  back  to 
his  office — where  he  set  himself  to  think  out  the 
course  he  intended  to  take  when  dealing  with  the 
Professors. 


221 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

VRAM  INVITES  DR.  DOWNIE  AND  MRS.  HUMDRUM 
TO  LUNCHEON — A  PASSAGE  AT  ARMS  BETWEEN 
HER   AND   HANKY   IS   AMICABLY   ARRANGED 

The  disturbance  caused  by  my  father's  outbreak 
was  quickly  suppressed,  for  George  got  him  out 
of  the  temple  almost  immediately ;  it  was  bruited 
about,  however,  that  the  Sunchild  had  come  down 
from  the  palace  of  the  sun,  but  had  disappeared 
as  soon  as  any  one  had  tried  to  touch  him.  In 
vain  did  Hanky  try  to  put  fresh  life  into  his  sermon  ; 
its  back  had  been  broken,  and  large  numbers  left 
the  church  to  see  what  they  could  hear  outside, 
or  failing  information,  to  discourse  more  freely 
with  one  another. 

Hanky  did  his  best  to  quiet  his  hearers  when 
he  found  that  he  could  not  infuriate  them, — 

"This  poor  man,"  he  said,  "is  already  known  to 
me,  as  one  of  those  who  have  deluded  themselves 
into  believing  that  they  are  the  Sunchild.  I  have 
known  of  his  so  declaring  himself,  more  than  once, 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bridgeford,  and  others 
have  not  infrequently  done  the  same ;  I  did  not  at 
first  recognize  him,  and  regret  that  the  shock  of 
horror  his  words  occasioned  me  should  have 
prompted  me  to  suggest  violence  against  him.     Let 

222 


After  Service 


this  unfortunate  affair  pass  from  your  minds,  and 
let  me  again  urge  upon  you  the  claims  of  the 
Sunchild  Evidence  Society." 

The  audience  on  hearing  that  they  were  to  be 
told  more  about  the  Sunchild  Evidence  Society 
melted  away  even  more  rapidly  than  before,  and 
the  sermon  fizzled  out  to  an  ignominious  end  quite 
unworthy  of  its  occasion. 

About  half-past  twelve,  the  service  ended,  and 
Hanky  went  to  the  robing-room  to  take  off  his 
vestments.  Yram,  the  Mayor,  and  Panky,  waited 
for  him  at  the  door  opposite  to  that  through  which 
my  father  had  been  taken  ;  while  waiting,  Yram 
scribbled  off  two  notes  in  pencil,  one  to  Dr.  Downie, 
and  another  to  Mrs.  Humdrum,  begging  them  to 
come  to  lunch  at  once — for  it  would  be  one  o'clock 
before  they  could  reach  the  Mayor's.  She  gave 
these  notes  to  the  Mayor,  and  bade  him  bring  both 
the  invited  guests  along  with  him. 

The  Mayor  left  just  as  Hanky  was  coming  to- 
wards her.  "This,  Mayoress,"  he  said  with  some 
asperity,  "  is  a  very  serious  business.  It  has  ruined 
my  collection.  Half  the  people  left  the  temple 
without  giving  anything  at  all.  You  seem,"  he 
added  in  a  tone  the  significance  of  which  could  not 
be  mistaken,  "to  be  very  fond,  Mayoress,  of  this 
Mr.  Higgs." 

"Yes,"  said  Yram,  "I  am;  I  always  liked  him, 

and  I  am  sorry  for  him;  but  he  is  not  the  person 

I  am  most  sorry  for  at  this  moment — he,  poor  man, 

is  not  going  to  be  horsewhipped  within  the  next 

223 


Erewhon   Revisited 

twenty  minutes."  And  she  spoke  the  "  he "  in 
italics. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Mayoress." 

"  My  husband  will  explain,  as  soon  as  I  have 
seen  him." 

"Hanky,"  said  Panky,  "you  must  withdraw,  and 
apologise  at  once." 

Hanky  was  not  slow  to  do  this,  and  when  he 
had  disavowed  everything,  withdrawn  everything, 
apologised  for  everything,  and  eaten  humble  pie 
to  Yram's  satisfaction,  she  smiled  graciously,  and 
held  out  her  hand,  which  Hanky  was  obliged  to 
take. 

"  And  now.  Professor,"  she  said,  "  let  me  return 
to  your  remark  that  this  is  a  very  serious  business, 
and  let  me  also  claim  a  woman's  privilege  of  being 
listened  to  whenever  she  chooses  to  speak.  I  pro- 
pose, then,  that  we  say  nothing  further  about  this 
matter  till  after  luncheon.  I  have  asked  Dr.  Downie 
and  Mrs.  Humdrum  to  join  us " 

"  Why  Mrs.  Humdrum  ? "  interrupted  Hanky 
none  too  pleasantly,  for  he  was  still  furious  about 
the  duel  that  had  just  taken  place  between  himself 
and  his  hostess. 

"  My  dear  Professor,"  said  Yramgood-humouredly, 
"  pray  say  all  you  have  to  say  and  I  will  continue." 

Hanky  was  silent. 

"  I  have  asked,"  resumed  Yram,  "  Dr.  Downie 

and  Mrs.  Humdrum  to  join  us,  and  after  luncheon 

we  can  discuss  the  situation  or  no  as  you  may  think 

proper.     Till  then  let  us  say  no  more.     Luncheon 

224 


After  Service 


will  be  over  by  two  o'clock  or  soon  after,  and  the 
banquet  will  not  begin  till  seven,  so  we  shall  have 
plenty  of  time." 

Hanky  looked  black  and  said  nothing.  As  for 
Panky  he  was  morally  in  a  state  of  collapse,  and 
did  not  count. 

Hardly  had  they  reached  the  Mayor's  house 
when  the  Mayor  also  arrived  with  Dr.  Downie  and 
Mrs.  Humdrum,  both  of  whom  had  seen  and  recog- 
nised my  father  in  spite  of  his  having  dyed  his  hair. 
Dr.  Downie  had  met  him  at  supper  in  Mr.  Thims's 
rooms  when  he  had  visited  Bridgeford,  and  naturally 
enough  had  observed  him  closely.  Mrs.  Humdrum, 
as  I  have  already  said,  had  seen  him  more  than  once 
when  he  was  in  prison.  She  and  Dr.  Downie  were 
talking  earnestly  over  the  strange  reappearance  of 
one  whom  they  had  believed  long  since  dead,  but 
Yram  imposed  on  them  the  same  silence  that  she 
had  already  imposed  on  the  Professors. 

"  Professor  Hanky,"  said  she  to  Mrs.  Humdrum, 
in  Hanky's  hearing,  "  is  a  little  alarmed  at  my  having 
asked  you  to  join  our  secret  conclave.  He  is  not 
married,  and  does  not  know  how  well  a  woman  can 
hold  her  tongue  when  she  chooses.  I  should  have 
told  you  all  that  passed,  for  I  mean  to  follow  your 
advice,  so  I  thought  you  had  better  hear  everything 
yourself." 

Hanky  still  looked  black,  but  he  said  nothing. 

Luncheon  was  promptly  served,  and  done  justice  to 

in  spite  of  much  preoccupation  ;  for  if  there  is  one 

thing  that  gives  a  better  appetite  than  another,  it  is 

225  P 


Erewhon   Revisited 

a  Sunday  morning's  service  with  a  charity  sermon 
to  follow.  As  the  guests  might  not  talk  on  the  sub- 
ject they  wanted  to  talk  about,  and  were  in  no 
humour  to  speak  of  anything  else,  they  gave  their 
whole  attention  to  the  good  things  that  were  before 
them,  without  so  much  as  a  thought  about  reserving 
themselves  for  the  evening's  banquet.  Neverthe- 
less, when  luncheon  was  over,  the  Professors  were 
in  no  more  genial,  manageable,  state  of  mind  than 
they  had  been  when  it  began. 

When  the  servants  had  left  the  room,  Yram  said 
to  Hanky,  "  You  saw  the  prisoner,  and  he  was  the 
man  you  met  on  Thursday  night  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  he  was  wearing  the  forbidden  dress 
and  he  had  many  quails  in  his  possession.  There 
is  no  doubt  also  that  he  was  a  foreign  devil." 

At  this  point,  it  being  now  nearly  half-past  two, 
George  came  in,  and  took  a  seat  next  to  Mrs.  Hum- 
drum— between  her  and  his  mother — who  of  course 
sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  with  the  Mayor  opposite 
to  her.  On  one  side  of  the  table  sat  the  Professors, 
and  on  the  other  Dr.  Downie,  Mrs.  Humdrum,  and 
George,  who  had  heard  the  last  few  words  that 
Hanky  had  spoken. 


2S6 


CHAPTER   XIX 

A  COUNCIL  IS  HELD  AT  THE  MAYOR'S,  IN  THE 
COURSE  OF  WHICH  GEORGE  TURNS  THE  TABLES 
ON  THE   PROFESSORS 

"  Now  who,"  said  Yram,  "  is  this  unfortunate 
creature  to  be,  when  he  is  brought  up  to-morrow 
morning,  on  the  charge  of  poaching  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  necessary,"  said  Hanky  severely,  "  that 
he  should  be  brought  up  for  poaching.  He  is  a 
foreign  devil,  and  as  such  your  son  is  bound  to 
fling  him  without  trial  into  the  Blue  Pool.  Why 
bring  a  smaller  charge  when  you  must  inflict  the 
death  penalty  on  a  more  serious  one  ?  I  have 
already  told  you  that  I  shall  feel  it  my  duty  to 
report  the  matter  at  headquarters,  unless  I  am 
satisfied  that  the  death  penalty  has  been  inflicted." 

"Of  course,"  said  George,  "we  must  all  of  us 
do  our  duty,  and  I  shall  not  shrink  from  mine — 
but  I  have  arrested  this  man  on  a  charge  of  poach- 
ing, and  must  give  my  reasons  ;  the  case  cannot 
be  dropped,  and  it  must  be  heard  in  public.  Am 
I,  or  am  I  not,  to  have  the  sworn  depositions  of 
both  you  gentlemen  to  the  fact  that  the  prisoner 
is  the  man  you  saw  with  quails  in  his  possession  1 
If  you  can  depose  to  this  he  will   be  convicted, 

for  there  can  be  no  doubt  he  killed  the  birds  him- 

227 


Erewhon  Revisited 

self.  The  least  penalty  my  father  can  inflict  is 
twelve  months'  imprisonment  with  hard  labour ; 
and  he  must  undergo  this  sentence  before  I  can 
Blue-Pool  him. 

"Then  comes  the  question  whether  or  no  he 
is  a  foreign  devil.  I  may  decide  this  in  private, 
but  I  must  have  depositions  on  oath  before  i  do 
so,  and  at  present  I  have  nothing  but  hearsay. 
Perhaps  you  gentlemen  can  give  me  the  evidence 
I  shall  require,  but  the  case  is  one  of  such  import- 
ance that  were  the  prisoner  proved  never  so  clearly 
to  be  a  foreign  devil,  I  should  not  Blue-Pool  him 
till  I  had  taken  the  King's  pleasure  concerning  him, 
I  shall  rejoice,  therefore,  if  you  gentlemen  can 
help  me  to  sustain  the  charge  of  poaching,  and 
thus  give  me  legal  standing-ground  for  deferring 
action  which  the  King  might  regret,  and  which  once 
taken  cannot  be  recalled." 

Here  Yram  interposed.  "These  points,"  she 
said,  "are  details.  Should  we  not  first  settle,  not 
what,  but  who,  we  shall  allow  the  prisoner  to  be, 
when  he  is  brought  up  to-morrow  morning  ?  Settle 
this,  and  the  rest  will  settle  itself.  He  has  declared 
himself  to  be  the  Sunchild,  and  will  probably  do 
so  again.  I  am  prepared  to  identify  him,  so  is 
Dr.  Downie,  so  is  Mrs.  Humdrum,  the  interpreter, 
and  doubtless  my  father.  Others  of  known  respec- 
tability will  also  do  so,  and  his  marks  and  measure- 
ments are  sure  to  correspond  quite  sufficiently. 
The  question  is,  whether  all  this  is  to  be  allowed 

to  appear  on  evidence,  or  whether  it  is  to  be  estab- 

228 


A  Council 


lished,  as  it  easily  may,  if  we  give  our  minds  to  it, 
that  he  is  not  the  Sunchild." 

"Whatever  else  he  is,"  said  Hanky,  "he  must 
not  be  the  Sunchild.  He  must,  if  the  charge  of 
poaching  cannot  be  dropped,  be  a  poacher  and  a 
foreign  devil.  I  was  doubtless  too  hasty  when  I 
said  that  I  believed  I  recognized  the  man  as  one 
who  had  more  than  once  declared  himself  to  be 
the  Sunchild " 

"  But,  Hanky,"  interrupted  Panky,  "  are  you 
sure  that  you  can  swear  to  this  man's  being  the 
man  we  met  on  Thursday  night  ?  We  only  saw 
him  by  firelight,  and  I  doubt  whether  I  should  feel 
justified  in  swearing  to  him." 

"Well,  well  :  on  second  thoughts  I  am  not  sure, 
Panky,  but  what  you  may  be  right  after  all ;  it  is 
possible  that  he  may  be  what  I  said  he  was  in  my 
sermon." 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  George,  "  for 
in  this  case  the  charge  of  poaching  will  fall  through. 
There  will  be  no  evidence  against  the  prisoner. 
And  I  rejoice  also  to  think  that  I  shall  have  nothing 
to  warrant  me  in  believing  him  to  be  a  foreign 
devil.  For  if  he  is  not  to  be  the  Sunchild,  and 
not  to  be  your  poacher,  he  becomes  a  mere  mono- 
maniac. If  he  apologises  for  having  made  a  dis- 
turbance in  the  temple,  and  promises  not  to  offend 
again,  a  fine,  and  a  few  days'  imprisonment,  will 
meet  the  case,  and  he  may  be  discharged." 

"I  see,  I  see,"  said  Hanky  very  angrily.     "You 

are  determined  to  get  this  man  off  if  you  can." 

229 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  1  shall  act,"  said  George,  "  in  accordance  with 
sworn  evidence,  and  not  otherwise.  Choose  whether 
you  will  have  the  prisoner  to  be  your  poacher  or 
no  :  give  me  your  sworn  depositions  one  way  or 
the  other,  and  I  shall  know  how  to  act.  If  you 
depose  on  oath  to  the  identity  of  the  prisoner  and 
your  poacher,  he  will  be  convicted  and  imprisoned. 
As  to  his  being  a  foreign  devil,  if  he  is  the  Sun- 
child,  of  course  he  is  one  ;  but  otherwise  I  cannot 
Blue-Pool  him  even  when  his  sentence  is  expired, 
without  testimony  deposed  to  me  on  oath  in  pri- 
vate, though  no  open  trial  is  required.  A  case  for 
suspicion  was  made  out  in  my  hearing  last  night, 
but  I  must  have  depositions  on  oath  to  all  the 
leading  facts  before  I  can  decide  what  my  duty  is. 
What  will  you  swear  to  ?  " 

"All  this,"  said  Hanky,  in  a  voice  husky  with 
passion,  "  shall  be  reported  to  the  King." 

"  I  intend  to  report  every  word  of  it ;  but  that  is 
not  the  point :  the  question  is  what  you  gentlemen 
will  swear  to  ?" 

"Very  well.  I  will  settle  it  thus.  We  will  swear 
that  the  prisoner  is  the  poacher  we  met  on  Thurs- 
day night,  and  that  he  is  also  a  foreign  devil  :  his 
wearing  the  forbidden  dress  ;  his  foreign  accent ; 
the  foot-tracks  we  found  in  the  snow,  as  of  one 
coming  over  from  the  other  side ;  his  obvious 
ignorance  of  the  Afforesting  Act,  as  shown  by  his 
having  lit  a  fire  and  making  no  effort  to  conceal 
his  quails  till  our  permit  shewed  him  his  blunder ; 

the   cock  -  and  -  bull   story  he  told  us  about  your 

230 


A  Council 

orders,  and  that  other  story  about  his  having  killed 
a  foreign  devil — if  these  facts  do  not  satisfy  you, 
they  will  satisfy  the  King  that  the  prisoner  is  a 
foreign  devil  as  well  as  a  poacher." 

"  Some  of  these  facts,"  answered  George,  "  are 
new  to  me.  How  do  you  know  that  the  foot-tracks 
were  made  by  the  prisoner  ?  " 

Panky  brought  out  his  note-book  and  read  the 
details  he  had  noted. 

"  Did  you  examine  the  man's  boots  ?  " 

"  One  of  them,  the  right  foot  ;  this,  with  the  mea- 
surements, was  quite  enough." 

"  Hardly.  Please  to  look  at  both  soles  of  my 
own  boots  ;  you  will  find  that  those  tracks  were 
mine.  I  will  have  the  prisoner's  boots  examined  ; 
in  the  meantime  let  me  tell  you  that  I  was  up  at 
the  statues  on  Thursday  morning,  walked  three  or 
four  hundred  yards  beyond  them,  over  ground 
where  there  was  less  snow,  returned  over  the 
snow,  and  went  two  or  three  times  round  them, 
as  it  is  the  Ranger's  duty  to  do  once  a  year  in 
order  to  see  that  none  of  them  are  beginning  to 
lean." 

He  showed  the  soles  of  his  boots,  and  the  Pro- 
fessors were  obliged  to  admit  that  the  tracks  were 
his.  He  cautioned  them  as  to  the  rest  of  the  points 
on  which  they  relied.  Might  they  not  be  as  mis- 
taken, as  they  had  just  proved  to  be  about  the 
tracks  ?  He  could  not,  however,  stir  them  from 
sticking  to  it  that  there  was  enough  evidence  to 
prove  my  father  to  be  a  foreign  devil,  and  declaring 

231 


Erewhon   Revisited 

their  readiness  to  depose  to  the  facts  on  oath.  In 
the  end  Hanky  again  fiercely  accused  him  of  trying 
to  shield  the  prisoner. 

"You  are  quite  right,"  said  George,  "and  you 
will  see  my  reasons  shortly." 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Hanky  significantly, 
"  that  they  are  such  as  would  weigh  with  any  man 
of  ordinary  feeling." 

"  I  understand,  then,"  said  George,  appearing  to 
take  no  notice  of  Hanky's  innuendo,  "that  you  will 
swear  to  the  facts  as  you  have  above  stated  them  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"Then  kindly  wait  while  I  write  them  on' the 
form  that  I  have  brought  with  me  ;  the  Mayor  can 
administer  the  oath  and  sign  your  depositions.  I 
shall  then  be  able  to  leave  you,  and  proceed  with 
getting  up  the  case  against  the  prisoner." 

So  saying,  he  went  to  a  writing-table  in  another 
part  of  the  room,  and  made  out  the  depositions. 

Meanwhile  the  Mayor,  Mrs.  Humdrum,  and  Dr. 
Downie  (who  had  each  of  them  more  than  once 
vainly  tried  to  take  part  in  the  above  discussion) 
conversed  eagerly  in  an  undertone  among  them- 
selves. Hanky  was  blind  with  rage,  for  he  had  a 
sense  that  he  was  going  to  be  outwitted  ;  the  Mayor, 
Yram,  and  Mrs.  Humdrum  had  already  seen  that 
George  thought  he  had  all  the  trumps  in  his  own 
hand,  but  they  did  not  know  more.  Dr.  Downie 
was  frightened,  and  Panky  so  muddled  as  to  be 
hors  de  combat. 

George  now  rejoined  the   Professors,  and  read 
232 


A  Council 


the  depositions  :  the  Mayor  administered  the  oath 
according  to  Erewhonian  custom  ;  the  Professors 
signed  without  a  word,  and  George  then  handed 
the  document  to  his  father  to  countersign. 

The  Mayor  examined  it,  and  almost  immediately 
said,  "  My  dear  George,  you  have  made  a  mistake ; 
these  depositions  are  on  a  form  reserved  for  depo- 
nents who  are  on  the  point  of  death." 

"  Alas  !  "  answered  George,  "  there  is  no  help  for 
it.  I  did  my  utmost  to  prevent  their  signing.  I 
knew  that  those  depositions  were  their  own  death 
warrant,  and  that  is  why,  though  I  was  satisfied 
that  the  prisoner  is  a  foreign  devil,  I  had  hoped  to 
be  able  to  shut  my  eyes.  I  can  now  no  longer  do 
so,  and  as  the  inevitable  consequence,  I  must  Blue- 
Pool  both  the  Professors  before  midnight.  What 
man  of  ordinary  feeling  would  not  under  these 
circumstances  have  tried  to  dissuade  them  from 
deposing  as  they  have  done  ?  " 

By  this  time  the  Professors  had  started  to  their 
feet,  and  there  was  a  look  of  horrified  astonishment 
on  the  faces  of  all  present,  save  that  of  George,  who 
seemed  quite  happy. 

"  What  monstrous  absurdity  is  this  ? "  shouted 
Hanky  ;  "  do  you  mean  to  murder  us  ?  " 

"Certainly  not.  But  you  have  insisted  that  I 
should  do  my  duty,  and  I  mean  to  do  it.  You 
gentlemen  have  now  been  proved  to  my  satisfaction 
to  have  had  traffic  with  a  foreign  devil ;  and  under 
section  37  of  the  Afforesting  Act,  I  must  at  once 
Blue-Pool  any  such  persons  without  public  trial." 

233 


Erewhon   Revisited 

**  Nonsense,  nonsense,  there  was  nothing  of  the 
kind  on  our  permit,  and  as  for  trafficking  with  this 
foreign  devil,  we  spoke  to  him,  but  we  neither 
bought  nor  sold.     Where  is  the  Act  ?  " 

"  Here.  On  your  permit  you  were  referred  to  cer- 
tain other  clauses  not  set  out  therein,  which  might 
be  seen  at  the  Mayor's  office.  Clause  37  is  as 
follows : — 

"  It  is  furthermore  enacted  that  should  any  of  his 
Majesty's  subjects  be  found,  after  examination  by  the  Head 
Ranger,  to  have  had  traffic  of  any  kind  by  way  of  sale  or 
barter  with  any  foreign  devil,  the  said  Ranger,  on  being 
satisfied  that  such  traffic  has  taken  place,  shall  forthwith, 
with  or  without  the  assistance  of  his  under-rangers,  convey 
such  subjects  of  his  Majesty  to  the  Blue  Pool,  bind  them, 
weight  them,  and  fling  them  into  it,  without  the  formality 
of  a  trial,  and  shall  report  the  circumstances  of  the  case  to 
his  Majesty." 

"But  we  never  bought  anything  from  the  prisoner. 
What  evidence  can  you  have  of  this  but  the  word  of 
a  foreign  devil  in  such  straits  that  he  would  swear 
to  anything  ?" 

"The  prisoner  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  am 
convinced  by  this  receipt  in  Professor  Panky's 
handwriting  which  states  that  he  and  you  jointly 
purchased  his  kit  from  the  prisoner,  and  also  this  bag 
of  gold  nuggets  worth  about  ;^ioo  in  silver,  for  the 
absurdly  small  sum  of  £^,  los.  in  silver.  I  am 
further  convinced  by  this  handkerchief  marked  with 
Professor  Hanky's  name,  in  which  was  found  a 
broken  packet  of  dried  leaves  that  are  now  at  my 

office  with  the  rest  of  the  prisoner's  kit." 

234 


A  Council 


"Then  we  were  watched  and  dogged,"  said 
Hanky,  "on  Thursday  evening." 

"That,  sir,"  replied  George,  "is  my  business,  not 
yours." 

Here  Panky  laid  his  arms  on  the  table,  buried 
his  head  in  them,  and  burst  into  tears.  Every  one 
seemed  aghast,  but  the  Mayor,  Yram,  and  Mrs. 
Humdrum  saw  that  George  was  enjoying  it  all 
far  too  keenly  to  be  serious.  Dr.  Downie  was  still 
frightened  (for  George's  surface  manner  was  Rhada- 
manthine)  and  did  his  utmost  to  console  Panky. 
George  pounded  away  ruthlessly  at  his  case. 

"  I  say  nothing  about  your  having  bought  quails 
from  the  prisoner  and  eaten  them.  As  you  justly 
remarked  just  now,  there  is  no  object  in  preferring 
a  smaller  charge  when  one  must  inflict  the  death 
penalty  on  a  more  serious  one.  Still,  Professor 
Hanky,  these  are  bones  of  the  quails  you  ate  as 
you  sate  opposite  the  prisoner  on  the  side  of  the 
fire  nearest  Sunch'ston  ;  these  are  Professor  Panky's 
bones,  with  which  I  need  not  disturb  him.  This  is 
your  permit,  which  was  found  upon  the  prisoner, 
and  which  there  can  be  no  doubt  you  sold  him, 
having  been  bribed  by  the  offer  of  the  nuggets 
for " 

"  Monstrous,  monstrous  !  Infamous  falsehood  ! 
Who  will  believe  such  a  childish  trumped  up 
story  ! " 

"Who,  sir,  will  believe  anything  else?  You 
will  hardly  contend  that  you  did  not  know  the 
nuggets  were  gold,  and  no  one  will  believe   you 

235 


Erewhon   Revisited 

mean  enough  to  have  tried  to  get  this  poor  man's 
property  out  of  him  for  a  song — you  knowing  its 
value,  and  he  not  knowing  the  same.  No  one  will 
believe  that  you  did  not  know  the  man  to  be  a 
foreign  devil,  or  that  he  could  hoodwink  two  such 
learned  Professors  so  cleverly  as  to  get  their  per- 
mit out  of  them.  Obviously  he  seduced  you  into 
selling  him  your  permit,  and — I  presume  because 
he  wanted  a  little  of  our  money — he  made  you 
pay  him  for  his  kit.  I  am  satisfied  that  you  have 
not  only  had  traffic  with  a  foreign  devil,  but  traffic 
of  a  singularly  atrocious  kind,  and  this  being  so, 
I  shall  Blue-Pool  both  of  you  as  soon  as  I  can 
get  you  up  to  the  Pool  itself.  The  sooner  we 
start  the  better.  I  shall  gag  you,  and  drive  you 
up  in  a  close  carriage  as  far  as  the  road  goes ; 
from  that  point  you  can  walk  up,  or  be  dragged 
up  as  you  may  prefer,  but  you  will  probably  find 
walking  more  comfortable." 

"  But,"  said  Hanky,  "  come  what  may,  I  must  be 
at  the  banquet.     I  am  set  down  to  speak." 

"The  Mayor  will  explain  that  you  have  been 
taken  somewhat  suddenly  unwell." 

Here  Yram,  who  had  been  talking  quietly  with 
her  husband,  Dr.  Downie,  and  Mrs.  Humdrum, 
motioned  her  son  to  silence. 

"I  feared,"  she  said,  "that  difficulties  might 
arise,  though  I  did  not  foresee  how  seriously 
they  would  affect  my  guests.  Let  Mrs.  Humdrum 
on  our  side,  and  Dr.  Downie  on  that  of  the  Pro- 
fessors, go  into  the  next  room  and  talk  the  matter 

236 


A  Council 


quietly  over ;  let  us  then  see  whether  we  cannot 
agree  to  be  bound  by  their  decision.  I  do  not 
doubt  but  they  will  find  some  means  of  averting 
any  catastrophe  more  serious — No,Professor  Hanky, 
the  doors  are  locked  —  than  a  little  perjury  in 
which  we  shall  all  share  and  share  alike." 

"  Do  what  you  like,"  said  Hanky,  looking  for  all 
the  world  like  a  rat  caught  in  a  trap.  As  he  spoke 
he  seized  a  knife  from  the  table,  whereon  George 
pulled  a  pair  of  handcuffs  from  his  pocket  and 
slipped  them  on  to  his  wrists  before  he  well  knew 
what  was  being  done  to  him. 

"George,"  said  the  Mayor,  "this  is  going  too 
far.  Do  you  mean  to  Blue-Pool  the  Professors 
or  no  ?  " 

"  Not  if  they  will  compromise.  If  they  will  be 
reasonable,  they  will  not  be  Blue-Pooled ;  if  they 
think  they  can  have  everything  their  own  way,  the 
eels  will  be  at  them  before  morning." 

A  voice  was  heard  from  the  head  of  Panky  which 
he  had  buried  in  his  arms  upon  the  table.  "  Co — 
CO — CO — CO — compromise,"  it  said  ;  and  the  effect 
was  so  comic  that  every  one  except  Hanky  smiled. 
Meanwhile  Yram  had  conducted  Dr.  Downie  and 
Mrs.  Humdrum  into  an  adjoining  room. 


437 


CHAPTER   XX 

MRS.  HUMDRUM  AND  DR.  DOWNIE  PROPOSE  A  COM- 
PROMISE, WHICH,  AFTER  AN  AMENDMENT  BY 
GEORGE,    IS   CARRIED   NEM,   CON. 

They  returned  in  about  ten  minutes,  and  Dr. 
Downie  asked  Mrs.  Humdrum  to  say  what  they 
had  agreed  to  recommend. 

"  We  think,"  said  she  very  demurely,  "  that  the 
strict  course  would  be  to  drop  the  charge  of  poach- 
ing, and  Blue-Pool  both  the  Professors  and  the 
prisoner  without  delay. 

"We  also  think  that  the  proper  thing  would  be 
to  place  on  record  that  the  prisoner  is  the  Sunchild 
— about  which  neither  Dr.  Downie  nor  I  have  a 
shadow  of  doubt. 

"  These  measures  we  hold  to  be  the  only  legal 
ones,  but  at  the  same  time  we  do  not  recommend 
them.  We  think  it  would  offend  the  public  con- 
science if  it  came  to  be  known,  as  it  certainly 
would,  that  the  Sunchild  was  violently  killed,  on 
the  very  day  that  had  seen  us  dedicate  a  temple  in 
his  honour,  and  perhaps  at  the  very  hour  when 
laudatory  speeches  were  being  made  about  him  at 
the  Mayor's  banquet ;  we  think  also  that  we  should 
strain  a  good  many  points  rather  than  Blue-Pool 

the  Professors. 

238 


The  Compromise 

"  Nothing  is  perfect,  and  Truth  makes  her  mis- 
takes Hke  other  people  ;  when  she  goes  wrong  and 
reduces  herself  to  such  an  absurdity  as  she  has  here 
done,  those  who  love  her  must  save  her  from  her- 
self, correct  her,  and  rehabilitate  her„ 

"Our  conclusion,  therefore,  is  this  : — 

"  The  prisoner  must  recant  on  oath  his  statement 
that  he  is  the  Sunchild.  The  interpreter  must 
be  squared,  or  convinced  of  his  mistake.  The 
Mayoress,  Dr.  Downie,  I,  and  the  gaoler  (with  the 
interpreter  if  we  can  manage  him),  must  depose 
on  oath  that  the  prisoner  is  not  Higgs.  This  must 
be  our  contribution  to  the  rehabilitation  of  Truth. 

"  The  Professors  must  contribute  as  follows : 
They  must  swear  that  the  prisoner  is  not  the  man 
they  met  with  quails  in  his  possession  on  Thursday 
night.  They  must  further  swear  that  they  have  one 
or  both  of  them  known  him,  off  and  on,  for  many 
years  past,  as  a  monomaniac  wdth  Sunchildism  on 
the  brain  but  otherwise  harmless.  If  they  will  do 
this,  no  proceedings  are  to  be  taken  against  them. 

"  The  Mayor's  contribution  shall  be  to  reprimand 
the  prisoner,  and  order  him  to  repeat  his  recanta- 
tion in  the  new  temple  before  the  Manager  and 
Head  Cashier,  and  to  confirm  his  statement  on 
oath  by  kissing  the  reliquary  containing  the  newly 
found  rehc. 

"  The  Ranger  and  the  Master  of  the  Gaol  must 
contribute  that  the  prisoner's  measurements,  and 
the  marks  found  on  his  body,  negative  all  possi- 
bility of  his  identity  with  the  Sunchild,  and  that  all 

239 


Erewhon   Revisited 

the  hair  on  the  covered  as  well  as  the  uncovered 
parts  of  his  body  was  found  to  be  jet  black. 

"  We  advise  further  that  the  prisoner  should  have 
his  nuggets  and  his  kit  returned  to  him,  and  that 
the  receipt  given  by  the  Professors  together  with 
Professor  Hanky's  handkerchief  be  given  back  to 
the  Professors. 

"  Furthermore,  seeing  that  we  should  all  of  us 
like  to  have  a  quiet  evening  with  the  prisoner,  we 
should  petition  the  Mayor  and  Mayoress  to  ask  him 
to  meet  all  here  present  at  dinner  to-morrow  even- 
ing, after  his  discharge,  on  the  plea  that  Professors 
Hanky  and  Panky  and  Dr.  Downie  may  give  him 
counsel,  convince  him  of  his  folly,  and  if  possible 
free  him  henceforth  from  the  monomania  under 
which  he  now  suffers. 

"  The  prisoner  shall  give  his  word  of  honour, 
never  to  return  to  Erewhon,  nor  to  encourage  any 
of  his  countrymen  to  do  so.  After  the  dinner  to 
which  we  hope  the  Mayoress  will  invite  us,  the 
Ranger,  if  the  night  is  fair,  shall  escort  the  prisoner 
as  far  as  the  statues,  whence  he  will  find  his  own 
way  home. 

"  Those  who  are  in  favour  of  this  compromise 
hold  up  their  hands." 

The  Mayor  and  Yram  held  up  theirs.  "  Will  you 
hold  up  yours.  Professor  Hanky,"  said  George,  "  if 
I  release  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Hanky  with  a  gruff  laugh,  whereon 

George   released   him   and   he    held    up    both   his 

hands. 

240 


The  Compromise 

Panky  did  not  hold  up  his,  whereon  Hanky  said, 
"  Hold  up  your  hands,  Panky,  can't  you  ?  We  are 
really  very  well  out  of  it." 

Panky,  hardly  lifting  his  head,  sobbed  out,  "  I 
think  we  ought  to  have  our  f-f-fo-fo-four  pounds 
ten  returned  to  us." 

"  I  am  afraid,  sir,"  said  George,  "  that  the  prisoner 
must  have  spent  the  greater  part  of  this  money." 

Every  one  smiled,  indeed  it  was  all  George  could 
do  to  prevent  himself  from  laughing  outright.  The 
Mayor  brought  out  his  purse,  counted  the  money, 
and  handed  it  good-humouredly  to  Panky,  who 
gratefully  received  it,  and  said  he  would  divide  it 
with  Hanky.  He  then  held  up  his  hands,  "  But," 
he  added,  turning  to  his  brother  Professor,  "  so 
long  as  I  live,  Hanky,  I  will  never  go  out  anywhere 
again  with  you." 

George  then  turned  to  Hanky  and  said,  "  I  am 
afraid  I  must  now  trouble  you  and  Professor  Panky 
to  depose  on  oath  to  the  facts  which  Mrs.  Hum- 
drum and  Dr.  Downie  propose  you  should  swear 
to  in  open  court  to-morrow.  I  knew  you  would 
do  so,  and  have  brought  an  ordinary  form,  duly 
filled  up,  which  declares  that  the  prisoner  is  not 
the  poacher  you  met  on  Thursday ;  and  also,  that 
he  has  been  long  known  to  both  of  you  as  a 
harmless  monomaniac." 

As  he  spoke  he  brought  out  depositions  to  the 
above  effect  which  he  had  just  written  in  his  office  ; 
he  shewed  the  Professors  that  the  form  was  this 
time   an    innocent    one,    whereon    they    made    no 

241  Q 


Erewhon   Revisited 

demur  to  signing  and  swearing  in  the  presence  of 
the  Mayor,  who  attested. 

"The  former  depositions,"  said  Hanky,  "had 
better  be  destroyed  at  once." 

"That,"  said  George,  "may  hardly  be,  but  so 
long  as  you  stick  to  what  you  have  just  sworn  to, 
they  will  not  be  used  against  you." 

Hanky  scowled,  but  knew  that  he  was  powerless 
and  said  no  more. 


The  knowledge  of  what  ensued  did  not  reach 
me  from  my  father.  George  and  his  mother, 
seeing  how  ill  he  looked,  and  what  a  shock  the 
events  of  the  last  few  days  had  given  him,  resolved 
that  he  should  not  know  of  the  risk  that  George  was 
about  to  run  ;  they  therefore  said  nothing  to  him 
about  it.  What  I  shall  now  tell,  I  learned  on  the 
occasion  already  referred  to  when  I  had  the  happi- 
ness to  meet  George.  I  am  in  some  doubt  whether 
it  is  more  fitly  told  here,  or  when  I  come  to  the 
interview  between  him  and  me ;  on  the  whole, 
however,  I  suppose  chronological  order  is  least 
outraged  by  dealing  with  it  here. 

As  soon  as  the  Professors  had  signed  the  second 
depositions,  George  said,  "  I  have  not  yet  held  up 
my  hands,  but  I  will  hold  them  up  if  Mrs.  Hum- 
drum and  Dr.  Downie  will  approve  of  what  I 
propose.  Their  compromise  does  not  go  far 
enough,  for   swear  as   we  may,  it   is   sure   to   get 

noised  abroad,  with  the  usual  exaggerations,  that 

242 


The  Compromise 

the  Sunchild  has  been  here,  and  that  he  has  been 
spirited  away  either  by  us,  or  by  the  sun  his  father. 
For  one  person  whom  we  know  of  as  having 
identified  him,  there  will  be  five,  of  whom  we 
know  nothing,  and  whom  we  cannot  square. 
Reports  will  reach  the  King  sooner  or  later,  and 
I  shall  be  sent  for.  Meanwhile  the  Professors 
will  be  living  in  fear  of  intrigue  on  my  part,  and 
I,  however  unreasonably,  shall  fear  the  like  on 
theirs.  This  should  not  be.  I  mean,  therefore,  on 
the  day  following  my  return  from  escorting  the 
prisoner,  to  set  out  for  the  capital,  see  the  King, 
and  make  a  clean  breast  of  the  whole  matter.  To 
this  end  I  must  have  the  nuggets,  the  prisoner's 
kit,  his  receipt.  Professor  Hanky's  handkerchief, 
and,  of  course,  the  two  depositions  just  sworn  to 
by  the  Professors.  I  hope  and  think  that  the 
King  will  pardon  us  all  round  ;  but  whatever  he 
may  do  I  shall  tell  him  everything." 

Hanky  was  up  in  arms  at  once.  "  Sheer  mad- 
ness," he  exclaimed.  Yram  and  the  Mayor  looked 
anxious  ;  Dr.  Downie  eyed  George  as  though  he 
were  some  curious  creature,  which  he  heard  of 
but  had  never  seen,  and  was  rather  disposed  to 
like.  Mrs.  Humdrum  nodded  her  head  approv- 
ingly. 

"Quite  right,  George,"  said  she,  "tell  his  Majesty 
everything." 

Dr.  Downie  then  said,  "  Your  son,  Mayoress,  is 
a  very  sensible  fellow.  I  will  go  with  him,  and 
with  the  Professors — for  they  had  better  come  too  : 

243 


Erewhon   Revisited 

each  will  hear  what  the  other  says,  and  we  will 
tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the 
truth.  I  am,  as  you  know,  ts.  persona  grata  at  Court ; 
[  will  say  that  I  advised  your  son's  action.  The 
King  has  liked  him  ever  since  he  was  a  boy,  and 
I  am  not  much  afraid  about  what  he  will  do.  In 
public,  no  doubt  we  had  better  hush  things  up,  but 
in  private  the  King  must  be  told." 

Hanky  fought  hard  for  some  time,  but  George 
told  him  that  it  did  not  matter  whether  he  agreed 
or  no.  "  You  can  come,"  he  said,  "  or  stop  away, 
just  as  you  please.  If  you  come,  you  can  hear  and 
speak  ;  if  you  do  not,  you  will  not  hear,  but  these 
two  depositions  will  speak  for  you.  Please  your- 
self." 

"  Very  well,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  suppose  we  had 
better  go." 

Every  one  having  now  understood  what  his  or 
her  part  was  to  be,  Yram  said  they  had  better 
shake  hands  all  round  and  take  a  couple  of  hours' 
rest  before  getting  ready  for  the  banquet.  George 
said  that  the  Professors  did  not  shake  hands  with 
him  very  cordially,  but  the  farce  was  gone  through. 
When  the  hand-shaking  was  over,  Dr.  Downie  and 
Mrs.  Humdrum  left  the  house,  and  the  Professors 
retired  grumpily  to  their  own  room. 

I  will  say  here  that  no  harm  happened  either  to 
George  or  the  Professors  in  consequence  of  his 
having  told  the  King,  but  will  reserve  particulars 
for  my  concluding  chapter. 


244 


CHAPTER   XXI 

VRAM,    ON    GETTING   RID   OF   HER   GUESTS,   GOES 
TO    THE   PRISON   TO   SEE   MY   FATHER 

Yram  did  not  take  the  advice  she  had  given  her 
guests,  but  set  about  preparing  a  basket  of  the  best 
cold  dainties  she  could  find,  including  a  bottle  of 
choice  v^^ine  that  she  knew  my  father  would  like  ; 
thus  loaded  she  went  to  the  gaol,  which  she  entered 
by  her  father's  private  entrance. 

It  was  now  about  half-past  four,  so  that  much 
more  must  have  been  said  and  done  after  luncheon 
at  the  Mayor's  than  ever  reached  my  father.  The 
wonder  is  that  he  was  able  to  collect  so  much. 
He,  poor  man,  as  soon  as  George  left  him,  flung 
himself  on  to  the  bed  that  was  in  his  cell  and  lay 
there  wakeful,  but  not  unquiet,  till  near  the  time 
when  Yram  reached  the  gaol. 

The  old  gaoler  came  to  tell  him  that  she  had 
come  and  would  be  glad  to  see  him  ;  much  as  he 
dreaded  the  meeting  there  was  no  avoiding  it,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  Yram  stood  before  him. 

Both  were  agitated,  but  Yram  betrayed  less  of 
what  she  felt  than  my  father.  He  could  only  bow 
his  head  and  cover  his  face  with  his  hands.  Yram 
said,  "  We  are  old  friends  ;  take  your  hands  from 
your  face  and  let  me  see  you.   There !   That  is  well." 

245 


Erewhon   Revisited 

She  took  his  right  hand  between  both  hers, 
looked  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  kindness,  and  said 
softly— 

"You  are  not  much  changed,  but  you  look 
haggard,  worn,  and  ill ;  I  am  uneasy  about  you. 
Remember,  you  are  among  friends,  who  will  see 
that  no  harm  befalls  you.  There  is  a  look  in  your 
eyes  that  frightens  me." 

As  she  spoke  she  took  the  wine  out  of  her  basket, 
and  poured  him  out  a  glass,  but  rather  to  give  him 
some  little  thing  to  distract  his  attention,  than  be- 
cause she  expected  him  to  drink  it — which  he  could 
not  do. 

She  never  asked  him  whether  he  found  her 
altered,  or  turned  the  conversation  ever  such  a 
little  on  to  herself ;  all  was  for  him  ;  to  soothe  and 
comfort  him,  not  in  words  alone,  but  in  look, 
manner,  and  voice.  My  father  knew  that  he  could 
thank  her  best  by  controlling  himself,  and  letting 
himself  be  soothed  and  comforted — at  any  rate  so 
far  as  he  could  seem  to  be. 

Up  to  this  time  they  had  been  standing,  but  now 
Yram,  seeing  my  father  calmer,  said,  "  Enough,  let 
us  sit  down." 

So  saying  she  seated  herself  at  one  end  of  the 

small  table  that  was  in  the  cell,  and  motioned  my 

father  to  sit   opposite   to    her.     "The    light    hurts 

you  ? "  she  said,  for  the  sun  was  coming  into  the 

room.      "  Change    places   with    me,    I    am    a   sun 

worshipper.     No,  we  can  move  the  table,  and  we 

can  then  see  each  other  better." 

246 


Yram  Visits  My  Father 

This  done,  she  said,  still  very  softly,  "  And  now 
tell  me  what  it  is  all  about.  Why  have  you  come 
here  ?  " 

"Tell  me  first,"  said  my  father,  "what  befell  you 
after  I  had  been  taken  away.  Why  did  you  not 
send  me  word  when  you  found  what  had  happened  ? 
or  come  after  me  ?  You  know  I  should  have 
married  you  at  once,  unless  they  bound  me  in 
fetters." 

"  I  know  you  would  ;  but  you  remember  Mrs. 
Humdrum  ?  Yes,  I  see  you  do.  I  told  her  every- 
thing ;  it  was  she  who  saved  me.  We  thought  of 
you,  but  she  saw  that  it  would  not  do.  As  I  was  to 
marry  Mr.  Strong,  the  more  you  were  lost  sight  of 
the  better,  but  with  George  ever  with  me  I  have  not 
been  able  to  forget  you.  I  might  have  been  very 
happy  with  you,  but  I  could  not  have  been  happier 
than  I  have  been  ever  since  that  short  dreadful  time 
was  over.  George  must  tell  you  the  rest.  I  cannot 
do  so.  All  is  well.  I  love  my  husband  with  my 
whole  heart  and  soul,  and  he  loves  me  with  his. 
As  between  him  and  me,  he  knows  everything ; 
George  is  his  son,  not  yours  ;  we  have  settled  it  so, 
though  we  both  know  otherwise  ;  as  between  you 
and  me,  for  this  one  hour,  here,  there  is  no  use  in 
pretending  that  you  are  not  George's  father.  I 
have  said  all  I  need  say.  Now,  tell  me  what  I 
asked  you — Why  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  fear,"  said  my  father,  set  at  rest  by  the  sweet- 
ness of  Yram's  voice  and  manner — he  told  me  he 

had    never   seen   any   one   to   compare   with    her 

247 


Erewhon   Revisited 

except  my  mother — "  I  fear,  to  do  as  much  harm 
now  as  I  did  before,  and  with  as  little  wish  to  do 
any  harm  at  all." 

He  then  told  her  all  that  the  reader  knows,  and 
explained  how  he  had  thought  he  could  have  gone 
about  the  country  as  a  peasant,  and  seen  how  she 
herself  had  fared,  without  her,  or  any  one,  even 
suspecting  that  he  was  in  the  country. 

"  You  say  your  wife  is  dead,  and  that  she  left 
you  with  a  son — is  he  like  George  ?  " 

"  In  mind  and  disposition,  wonderfully  ;  in  ap- 
pearance, no  ;  he  is  dark  and  takes  after  his  mother, 
and  though  he  is  handsome,  he  is  not  so  good- 
looking  as  George." 

"  No  one,"  said  George's  mother,  "  ever  was,  or 
ever  will  be,  and  he  is  as  good  as  he  looks." 

"  I  should  not  have  believed  you  if  you  had  said 
he  was  not." 

"That  is  right.  I  am  glad  you  are  proud  of 
him.     He  irradiates  the  lives  of  every  one  of  us." 

"And  the  mere  knowledge  that  he  exists  will 
irradiate  the  rest  of  mine." 

"  Long  may  it  do  so.  Let  us  now  talk  about  this 
morning — did  you  mean  to  declare  yourself  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  what  I  meant ;  what  I  most 
cared  about  was  the  doing  what  I  thought  George 
would  wish  to  see  his  father  do." 

"  You  did  that ;  but  he  says  he  told  you  not  to 
say  who  you  were." 

"  So  he  did,  but  I  knew  what  he  would  think  right. 

He  was  uppermost  in  my  thoughts  all  the  time." 

248 


Yram  Visits  My  Father 

Yram  smiled,  and  said,  "George  is  a  dangerous 
person  ;  you  were  both  of  you  very  foolish  ;  one 
as  bad  as  the  other." 

"I^do  not  know.  I  do  not  know  anything.  It 
is  beyond  me  ;  but  I  am  at  peace  about  it,  and 
hope  I  shall  do  the  like  again  to-morrow  before 
the  Mayor." 

"  I  heartily  hope  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 
George  tells  me  you  have  promised  him  to  be  good 
and  to  do  as  we  bid  you." 

"  So  I  will ;  but  he  will  not  tell  me  to  say  that 
I  am  not  what  I  am." 

"Yes,  he  will,  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  If  we 
permit  you  to  be  Higgs  the  Sunchild,  he  must 
either  throw  his  own  father  into  the  Blue  Pool — 
which  he  will  not  do — or  run  great  risk  of  being 
thrown  into  it  himself,  for  not  having  Blue-Pooled 
a  foreigner.  I  am  afraid  we  shall  have  to  make 
you  do  a  good  deal  that  neither  you  nor  we  shall 
like." 

She  then  told  him  briefly  of  what  had  passed 

after  luncheon  at  her  house,  and  what  it  had  been 

settled   to   do,   leaving   George  to   tell  the  details 

while   escorting  him  towards   the   statues   on  the 

following  evening.     She  said  that  every  one  would 

be  so  completely  in  every  one  else's  power  that 

there  was  no   fear   of   any  one's  turning  traitor. 

But  she  said  nothing  about  George's  intention  of 

setting  out  for  the  capital  on  Wednesday  morning 

to  tell  the  whole  story  to  the  King. 

"  Now,"    she   said,  when   she   had  told   him   as 
249 


Erewhon   Revisited 

much  as  was  necessary,  "  be  good,  and  do  as  you 
said  you  would." 

"  I  will.  I  will  deny  myself,  not  once,  nor  twice, 
but  as  often  as  is  necessary.  I  will  kiss  the  reliquary, 
and  when  I  meet  Hanky  and  Panky  at  your  table, 
I  will  be  sworn  brother  to  them — so  long,  that  is, 
as  George  is  out  of  hearing  ;  for  I  cannot  lie  well 
to  them  when  he  is  listening." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can.  He  will  understand  all  about 
it ;  he  enjoys  falsehood  as  well  as  we  all  do,  and 
has  the  nicest  sense  of  when  to  lie  and  when  not  to 
do  so." 

"  What  gift  can  be  more  invaluable  ?  " 

My  father,  knowing  that  he  might  not  have  an- 
other chance  of  seeing  Yram  alone,  now  changed 
the  conversation. 

"  I  have  something,"  he  said,  "  for  George,  but  he 
must  know  nothing  about  it  till  after  I  am  gone." 

As  he  spoke,  he  took  from  his  pockets  the  nine 
small  bags  of  nuggets  that  remained  to  him. 

"  But  this,"  said  Yram,  "  being  gold,  is  a  large 
sum  :  can  you  indeed  spare  it,  and  do  you  really 
wish  George  to  have  it  all  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  very  unhappy  if  he  does  not,  but 
he  must  know  nothing  about  it  till  I  am  out  of 
Erewhon." 

My  father  then  explained  to  her  that  he  was  now 
very  rich,  and  would  have  brought  ten  times  as 
much,  if  he  had  known  of  George's  existence. 

"  Then,"  said  Yram,  musing,  "  if  you  are  rich,  I 

accept  and  thank  you  heartily  on  his  behalf.     I  can 

250 


Yram  Visits  My  Father 

see  a  reason  for  his  not  knowing  what  you  are 
giving  him  at  present,  but  it  is  too  long  to  tell." 

The  reason  was,  that  if  George  knew  of  this  gold 
before  he  saw  the  King,  he  would  be  sure  to  tell 
him  of  it,  and  the  King  might  claim  it,  for  George 
would  never  explain  that  it  was  a  gift  from  father 
to  son  ;  whereas  if  the  King  had  once  pardoned 
him,  he  would  not  be  so  squeamish  as  to  open  up 
the  whole  thing  again  with  a  postscript  to  his  con- 
fession.    But  of  this  she  said  not  a  word. 

My  father  then  told  her  of  the  box  of  sovereigns 
that  he  had  left  in  his  saddle-bags.  "  They  are 
coined,"  he  said,  "  and  George  will  have  to  melt 
them  down,  but  he  will  find  some  way  of  doing 
this.  They  will  be  worth  rather  more  than  these 
nine  bags  of  nuggets." 

"  The  difficulty  will  be  to  get  him  to  go  down 
and  fetch  them,  for  it  is  against  his  oath  to  go  far 
beyond  the  statues.  If  you  could  be  taken  faint 
and  say  you  wanted  help,  he  would  see  you  to  your 
camping  ground  without  a  word,  but  he  would  be 
angry  if  he  found  he  had  been  tricked  into  breaking 
his  oath  in  order  that  money  might  be  given  him. 
It  would  never  do.  Besides,  there  would  not  be 
time,  for  he  must  be  back  here  on  Tuesday  night. 
No  ;  if  he  breaks  his  oath  he  must  do  it  with  his 
eyes  open — and  he  will  do  it  later  on — or  I  will  go 
and  fetch  the  money  for  him  myself.  He  is  in  love 
with  a  grand-daughter  of  Mrs.  Humdrum's,  and  this 
sum,  together  with  what  you  are  now  leaving  with 
me,  will  make  him  a  well-to-do  man.     I  have  always 

251 


Erewhon   Revisited 


been  unhappy  about  his  having  any  of  the  Mayor's 
money,  and  his  salary  was  not  quite  enough  for 
him  to  marry  on.     What  can  I  say  to  thank  you  ?  " 

"  Tell  me,  please,  about  Mrs.  Humdrum's  grand- 
daughter.    You  like  her  as  a  wife  for  George  ?  " 

"Absolutely.  She  is  just  such  another  as  her 
grandmother  must  have  been.  She  and  George 
have  been  sworn  lovers  ever  since  he  was  ten,  and 
she  eight.  The  only  drawback  is  that  her  mother, 
Mrs.  Humdrum's  second  daughter,  married  for  love, 
and  there  are  many  children,  so  that  there  will  be 
no  money  with  her  ;  but  what  you  are  leaving  will 
make  everything  quite  easy,  for  he  will  sell  the  gold 
at  once.     I  am  so  glad  about  it." 

''Can  you  ask  Mrs.  Humdrum  to  bring  her 
grand-daughter  with  her  to-morrow  evening  ? " 

"  I  am  afraid  not,  for  we  shall  want  to  talk  freely 
at  dinner,  and  she  must  not  know  that  you  are  the 
Sunchild  ;  she  shall  come  to  my  house  in  the  after- 
noon and  you  can  see  her  then.  You  will  be  quite 
happy  about  her,  but  of  course  she  must  not  know 
that  you  are  her  father-in-law  that  is  to  be." 

"  One  thing  more.  As  George  must  know  no- 
thing about  the  sovereigns,  I  must  tell  you  how  I  will 
hide  them.  They  are  in  a  silver  box,  which  I  will 
bind  to  the  bough  of  some  tree  close  to  my  camp  ; 
or  if  I  can  find  a  tree  with  a  hole  in  it  I  will  drop 
the  box  into  the  hole.  He  cannot  miss  my  camp; 
he  has  only  to  follow  the  stream  that  runs  down 
from  the  pass  till  it  gets  near  a  large  river,  and  on  a 

small  triangular  patch  of  flat  ground,  he  will  see  the 

252 


Yram  Visits  My  Father 

ashes  of  my  camp  fire,  a  few  yards  away  from  the 
stream  on  his  right  hand  as  he  descends.  In  what- 
ever tree  I  may  hide  the  box,  I  will  strew  wood 
ashes  for  some  yards  in  a  straight  Hne  towards  it. 
I  will  then  light  another  fire  underneath,  and  blaze 
the  tree  with  a  knife  that  I  have  left  at  my  camping 
ground.     He  is  sure  to  find  it." 

Yram  again  thanked  him,  and  then  my  father, 
to  change  the  conversation,  asked  whether  she 
thought  that  George  really  would  have  Blue-Pooled 
the  Professors. 

"  There  is  no  knowing,"  said  Yram.  "  He  is  the 
gentlest  creature  living  till  some  great  provocation 
rouses  him,  and  I  never  saw  him  hate  and  despise 
any  one  as  he  does  the  Professors.  Much  of  what 
he  said  was  merely  put  on,  for  he  knew  the  Pro- 
fessors must  yield.  I  do  not  like  his  ever  having 
to  throw  any  one  into  that  horrid  place,  no 
more  does  he,  but  the  Rangership  is  exactly  the 
sort  of  thing  to  suit  him,  and  the  opening  was 
too  good  to  lose.  I  must  now  leave  you,  and  get 
ready  for  the  Mayor's  banquet.  We  shall  meet 
again  to-morrow  evening.  Try  and  eat  what  I 
have  brought  you  in  this  basket.  I  .hope  you  will 
like  the  wine."  She  put  out  her  hand,  which  my 
father  took,  and  in  another  moment  she  was  gone, 
for  she  saw  a  look  in  his  face  as  though  he  would 
fain  have  asked  her  to  let  him  once  more  press  his 
lips  to  hers.  Had  he  done  this,  without  thinking 
about  it,  it  is  likely  enough  she  would  not  have  been 

ill  pleased.     But  who  can  say  ? 

253 


Erewhon   Revisited 

For  the  rest  of  the  evening  my  father  was  left 
very  much  to  his  own  not  too  comfortable  reflec- 
tions. He  spent  part  of  it  in  posting  up  the  notes 
from  which,  as  well  as  from  his  own  mouth,  my 
story  is  in  great  part  taken.  The  good  things  that 
Yram  had  left  with  him,  and  his  pipe,  which  she 
had  told  him  he  might  smoke  quite  freely,  occupied 
another  part,  and  by  ten  o'clock  he  went  to  bed. 


«54 


CHAPTER   XXII 

MAINLY  OCCUPIED  WITH   A  VERACIOUS  EXTRACT 
FROM   A   SUNCH'STONIAN   JOURNAL 

While  my  father  was  thus  wihng  away  the  hours 
in  his  cell,  the  whole  town  was  being  illuminated  in 
his  honour,  and  not  more  than  a  couple  of  hundred 
yards  off,  at  the  Mayor's  banquet,  he  was  being 
extolled  as  a  superhuman  being. 

The  banquet,  which  was  at  the  town  hall,  was 
indeed  a  very  brilliant  affair,  but  the  little  space 
that  is  left  me  forbids  my  saying  more  than  that 
Hanky  made  what  was  considered  the  speech  of 
the  evening,  and  betrayed  no  sign  of  ill  effects  from 
the  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  which  he  had  spent 
so  recently.  Not  a  trace  was  to  be  seen  of  any 
desire  on  his  part  to  change  his  tone  as  regards 
Sunchildism — as,  for  example,  to  minimize  the  im- 
portance of  the  relic,  or  to  remind  his  hearers  that 
though  the  chariot  and  horses  had  undoubtedly 
come  down  from  the  sky  and  carried  away  my 
father  and  mother,  yet  that  the  earlier  stage  of 
the  ascent  had  been  made  in  a  balloon.  It  almost 
seemed,  so  George  told  my  father,  as  though  he 
had  resolved  that  he  would  speak  lies,  all  lies,  and 
nothing  but  lies. 

Panky,  who  was  also  to  have  spoken,  was  ex- 
255 


Erewhon   Revisited 

cused  by  the  Mayor  on  the  ground  that  the  great 
heat  and  the  excitement  of  the  day's  proceedings 
had  quite  robbed  him  of  his  voice. 

Dr.  Downie  had  a  jumping  cat  before  his  mental 
vision.  He  spoke  quietly  and  sensibly,  dwelling 
chiefly  on  the  benefits  that  had  already  accrued  to 
the  kingdom  through  the  abolition  of  the  edicts 
against  machinery,  and  the  great  developments 
which  he  foresaw  as  probable  in  the  near  future. 
He  held  up  the  Sunchild's  example,  and  his  ethical 
teaching,  to  the  imitation  and  admiration  of  his 
hearers,  but  he  said  nothing  about  the  miraculous 
element  in  my  father's  career,  on  which  he  de- 
clared that  his  friend  Professor  Hanky  had  already 
so  eloquently  enlarged  as  to  make  further  allusion 
to  it  superfluous. 

The  reader  knows  what  was  to  happen  on  the 
following  morning.  The  programme  concerted  at 
the  Mayor's  was  strictly  adhered  to.  The  following 
account,  however,  which  appeared  in  the  Sunch'- 
ston  bi-weekly  newspaper  two  days  after  my  father 
had  left,  was  given  me  by  George  a  year  later,  on 
the  occasion  of  that  interview  to  which  I  have 
already  more  than  once  referred.  There  were 
other  accounts  in  other  papers,  but  the  one  I  am 
giving  departs  the  least  widely  from  the  facts.  It 
ran  : — 

"  The  dose  of  a  disagreeable  incident.— Onv  readers 
will  remember  that  on  Sunday  last  during  the 
solemn  inauguration  of  the  temple  now  dedicated 
to  the  Sunchild,  an  individual  on  the  front  bench 

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The  Sunch'stonian  Version 

of  those  set  apart  for  the  pubHc  suddenly  inter- 
rupted Professor  Hanky's  eloquent  sermon  by 
declaring  himself  to  be  the  Sunchild,  and  saying 
that  he  had  come  down  from  the  sun  to  sanctify 
by  his  presence  the  glorious  fane  which  the  piety 
of  our  fellow-citizens  and  others  has  erected  in  his 
honour. 

"Wild  rumours  obtained  credence  throughout 
the  congregation  to  the  effect  that  this  person  was 
none  other  than  the  Sunchild  himself,  and  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  his  complexion  and  the  colour  of 
his  hair  showed  this  to  be  impossible,  more  than 
one  person  was  carried  away  by  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  and  by  some  few  points  of  resem- 
blance between  the  stranger  and  the  Sunchild. 
Under  the  influence  of  this  belief,  they  were  pre- 
paring to  give  him  the  honour  which  they  sup- 
posed justly  due  to  him,  when  to  the  surprise  of 
every  one  he  was  taken  into  custody  by  the  de- 
servedly popular  Ranger  of  the  King's  preserves, 
and  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  it  became  gener- 
ally known  that  he  had  been  arrested  on  the  charge 
of  being  one  of  a  gang  of  poachers  who  have  been 
known  for  some  time  past  to  be  making  much 
havoc  among  the  quails  on  the  preserves. 

"This  offence,  at  all  times  deplored  by  those 
who  desire  that  his  Majesty  should  enjoy  good 
sport  when  he  honours  us  with  a  visit,  is  doubly 
deplorable  during  the  season  when,  on  the  higher 
parts  of  the  preserves,  the  young  birds  are  not  yet 
able  to  shift  for  themselves  ;  the  Ranger,  therefore, 

257  R 


Erewhon   Revisited 

is  indefatigable  in  his  efforts  to  break  up  the  gang, 
and  with  this  end  in  view,  for  the  last  fortnight  has 
been  out  night  and  day  on  the  remoter  sections  of 
the  forest  —  httle  suspecting  that  the  marauders 
would  venture  so  near  Sunch'ston  as  it  now  seems 
they  have  done.  It  is  to  his  extreme  anxiety  to 
detect  and  punish  these  miscreants  that  we  must 
ascribe  the  arrest  of  a  man,  who,  however  foolish, 
and  indeed  guilty,  he  is  in  other  respects,  is  in- 
nocent of  the  particular  crime  imputed  to  him. 
The  circumstances  that  led  to  his  arrest  have 
reached  us  from  an  exceptionally  well-informed 
source,  and  are  as  follows  : — 

"Our  distinguished  guests,  Professors  Hanky  and 
Panky,  both  of  them  justly  celebrated  archaeo- 
logists, had  availed  themselves  of  the  opportunity 
afforded  them  by  their  visit  to  Sunch'ston,  to  in- 
spect the  mysterious  statues  at  the  head  of  the 
stream  that  conies  down  near  this  city,  and  which 
have  hitherto  baffled  all  those  who  have  tried  to 
ascertain  their  date  and  purpose. 

"  On  their  descent  after  a  fatiguing  day  the  Pro- 
fessors were  benighted,  and  lost  their  way.  Seeing 
the  light  of  a  small  fire  among  some  trees  near 
them,  they  made  towards  it,  hoping  to  be  directed 
rightly,  and  found  a  man,  respectably  dressed, 
sitting  by  the  fire  with  several  brace  of  quails  beside 
him,  some  of  them  plucked.  Believing  that  in 
spite  of  his  appearance,  which  would  not  have  led 
them  to  suppose  that  he  was  a  poacher,  he  must 
unquestionably   be    one,   they   hurriedly   enquired 

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The  Sunch'stonian  Version 

their  way,  intending  to  leave  him  as  soon  as  they 
had  got  their  answer ;  he,  however,  attacked  them, 
or  made  as  though  he  would  do  so,  and  said  he 
would  show  them  a  way  which  they  should  be  in 
no  fear  of  losing,  whereon  Professor  Hanky,  with 
a  well-directed  blow,  felled  him  to  the  ground. 
The  two  Professors,  fearing  that  other  poachers 
might  come  to  his  assistance,  made  off  as  nearly 
as  they  could  guess  in  the  direction  of  Sunch'ston. 
When  they  had  gone  a  mile  or  two  onward  at 
haphazard,  they  sat  down  under  a  large  tree,  and 
waited  till  day  began  to  break  ;  they  then  resumed 
their  journey,  and  before  long  struck  a  path  which 
led  them  to  a  spot  from  which  they  could  see  the 
towers  of  the  new  temple. 

"  Fatigued  though  they  were,  they  waited  before 
taking  the  rest  of  which  they  stood  much  in  need, 
till  they  had  reported  their  adventure  at  the 
Ranger's  office.  The  Ranger  was  still  out  on  the 
preserves,  but  immediately  on  his  return  on  Satur- 
day morning  he  read  the  description  of  the 
poacher's  appearance  and  dress,  about  which  last, 
however,  the  only  remarkable  feature  was  that  it 
was  better  than  a  poacher  might  be  expected  to 
possess,  and  gave  an  air  of  respectability  to  the 
wearer  that  might  easily  disarm  suspicion. 

"The  Ranger  made  enquiries  at  all  the  inns  in 

Sunch'ston,  and  at  length  succeeded  in  hearing  of 

a   stranger  who   appeared  to  correspond  with  the 

poacher  whom  the  Professors  had  seen  ;  but  the 

man  had  already  left,  and  though  the  Ranger  did 

259 


Erewhon  Revisited 

his  best  to  trace  him  he  did  not  succeed.  On 
Sunday  morning,  however,  he  observed  the  pris- 
oner, and  found  that  he  answered  the  description 
given  by  the  Professors ;  he  therefore  arrested 
him  quietly  in  the  temple,  but  told  him  that  he 
should  not  take  him  to  prison  till  the  service  was 
over.  The  man  said  he  would  come  quietly  inas- 
much as  he  should  easily  be  able  to  prove  his 
innocence.  In  the  meantime,  however,  he  pro- 
fessed the  utmost  anxiety  to  hear  Professor  Hanky's 
sermon,  which  he  said  he  believed  would  concern 
him  nearly.  The  Ranger  paid  no  attention  to  this, 
and  was  as  much  astounded  as  the  rest  of  the 
congregation  were,  when  immediately  after  one 
of  Professor  Hanky's  most  eloquent  passages,  the 
man  started  up  and  declared  himself  to  be  the 
Sunchild.  On  this  the  Ranger  took  him  away  at 
once,  and  for  the  man's  own  protection  hurried 
him  off  to  prison. 

"Professor  Hanky  was  so  much  shocked  at  such 
outrageous  conduct,  that  for  the  moment  he  failed 
to  recognise  the  offender ;  after  a  few  seconds, 
however,  he  grasped  the  situation,  and  knew  him 
to  be  one  who  on  previous  occasions,  near  Bridge- 
ford,  had  done  what  he  was  now  doing.  It  seems 
that  he  is  notorious  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Bridgeford,  as  a  monomaniac  who  is  so  deeply 
impressed  with  the  beauty  of  the  Sunchild's  charac- 
ter— and  we  presume  also  of  his  own — as  to  believe 
that  he  is  himself  the  Sunchild. 

"  Recovering  almost  instantly  from  the  shock  the 
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The  Sunch'stonian  Version 

interruption  had  given  him,  the  learned  Professor 
calmed  his  hearers  by  acquainting  them  with  the 
facts  of  the  case,  and  continued  his  sermon  to  the 
delight  of  all  who  heard  it.  We  should  say,  how- 
ever, that  the  gentleman  who  twenty  years  ago 
instructed  the  Sunchild  in  the  Erewhonian  lan- 
guage, was  so  struck  with  some  few  points  of  re- 
semblance between  the  stranger  and  his  former 
pupil,  that  he  acclaimed  him,  and  was  removed 
forcibly  by  the  vergers. 

"On  Monday  morning  the  prisoner  was  brought 
up  before  the  Mayor.  We  cannot  say  whether  it 
was  the  sobering  effect  of  prison  walls,  or  whether 
he  had  been  drinking  before  he  entered  the  temple, 
and  had  now  had  time  enough  to  recover  himself 
— at  any  rate  for  some  reason  or  other  he  was 
abjectly  penitent  when  his  case  came  on  for  hear- 
ing. The  charge  of  poaching  was  first  gone  into, 
but  was  immediately  disposed  of  by  the  evidence 
of  the  two  Professors,  who  stated  that  the  prisoner 
bore  no  resemblance  to  the  poacher  they  had  seen, 
save  that  he  was  about  the  same  height  and  age, 
and  was  respectably  dressed. 

"The  charge  of  disturbing  the  congregation  by 
declaring  himself  the  Sunchild  was  then  proceeded 
with,  and  unnecessary  as  it  may  appear  to  be,  it 
was  thought  advisable  to  prevent  all  possibility  of 
the  man's  assertion  being  accepted  by  the  ignorant 
as  true,  at  some  later  date,  when  those  who  could 
prove    its   falsehood  were   no  longer  living.    The 

prisoner,  therefore,  was  removed  to  his  cell,  and 

261 


Erewhon   Revisited 

there  measured  by  the  Master  of  the  Gaol,  and  the 
Ranger  in  the  presence  of  the  Mayor,  who  attested 
the  accuracy  of  the  measurements.  Not  one  single 
one  of  them  corresponded  with  those  recorded  of 
the  Sunchild  himself,  and  a  few  marks  such  as 
moles,  and  permanent  scars  on  the  Sunchild's  body 
were  not  found  on  the  prisoner's.  Furthermore 
the  prisoner  was  shaggy-breasted,  with  much  coarse 
jet  black  hair  on  the  fore-arms  and  from  the  knees 
downwards,  whereas  the  Sunchild  had  little  hair 
save  on  his  head,  and  what  little  there  was,  was 
fine,  and  very  light  in  colour. 

"  Confronted  with  these  discrepancies,  the  gentle- 
man who  had  taught  the  Sunchild  our  language 
was  convinced  of  his  mistake,  though  he  still  main- 
tained that  there  was  some  superficial  likeness 
between  his  former  pupil  and  the  prisoner.  Here 
he  was  confirmed  by  the  Master  of  the  Gaol,  the 
Mayoress,  Mrs.  Humdrum,  and  Professors  Hanky 
and  Panky,  who  all  of  them  could  see  what  the 
interpreter  meant,  but  denied  that  the  prisoner 
could  be  mistaken  for  the  Sunchild  for  more  than 
a  few  seconds.  No  doubt  the  prisoner's  unhappy 
delusion  has  been  fostered,  if  not  entirely  caused, 
by  his  having  been  repeatedly  told  that  he  was  like 
the  Sunchild.  The  celebrated  Dr.  Downie,  who 
well  remembers  the  Sunchild,  was  also  examined, 
and  gave  his  evidence  with  so  much  convincing 
detail  as  to  make  it  unnecessary  to  call  further 
witnesses. 

"  It  having  been  thus  once  for  all  officially  and 

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The  Sunch'stonian  Version 

authoritatively  placed  on  record  that  the  prisoner 
was  not  the  Sunchild,  Professors  Hanky  and  Panky 
then  identified  him  as  a  well  known  monomaniac 
on  the  subject  of  Sunchildism,  who  in  other  re- 
spects was  harmless.  We  withhold  his  name  and 
place  of  abode,  out  of  consideration  for  the  well 
known  and  highly  respectable  family  to  which  he 
belongs.  The  prisoner  admitted  with  much  con- 
trition that  he  had  made  a  disturbance  in  the 
temple,  but  pleaded  that  he  had  been  carried  away 
by  the  eloquence  of  Professor  Hanky  ;  he  promised 
to  avoid  all  like  offence  in  future,  and  threw  him- 
self on  the  mercy  of  the  court. 

"The  Mayor,  unwilling  that  Sunday's  memorable 
ceremony  should  be  the  occasion  of  a  serious 
punishment  to  any  of  those  who  took  part  in  it, 
reprimanded  the  prisoner  in  a  few  severe  but  not 
unkindly  words,  inflicted  a  fine  of  forty  shillings, 
and  ordered  that  the  prisoner  should  be  taken 
directly  to  the  temple,  where  he  should  confess  his 
folly  to  the  Manager  and  Head  Cashier,  and  con- 
firm his  words  by  kissing  the  reliquary  in  which 
the  newly  found  relic  has  been  placed.  The 
prisoner  being  unable  to  pay  the  fine,  some  of 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  court  kindly  raised 
the  amount  amongst  them,  in  pity  for  the  poor 
creature's  obvious  contrition,  rather  than  see  him 
sent  to  prison  for  a  month  in  default  of  payment. 

"The  prisoner  was  then  conducted  to  the  temple, 
followed    by   a    considerable    number    of    people. 

Strange  to  say,  in  spite  of  the  overwhelming  evi- 

263 


Erewhon   Revisited 

dence  that  they  had  just  heard,  some  few  among 
the  followers,  whose  love  of  the  marvellous  over- 
powered their  reason,  still  maintained  that  the 
prisoner  was  the  Sunchild.  Nothing  could  be  more 
decorous  than  the  prisoner's  behaviour  when,  after 
hearing  the  recantation  that  was  read  out  to  him 
by  the  Manager,  he  signed  the  document  with  his 
name  and  address,  which  we  again  withhold,  and 
kissed  the  reliquary  in  confirmation  of  his  words. 

"The  Mayor  then  declared  the  prisoner  to  be  at 
liberty.  When  he  had  done  so  he  said,  '  I  strongly 
urge  you  to  place  yourself  under  my  protection  for 
the  present,  that  you  may  be  freed  from  the  im- 
pertinent folly  and  curiosity  of  some  whose  infatua- 
tion might  lead  you  from  that  better  mind  to  which 
I  believe  you  are  now  happily  restored.  I  wish  you 
to  remain  for  some  few  hours  secluded  in  the 
privacy  of  my  own  study,  where  Dr.  Downie  and 
the  two  excellent  Professors  will  administer  that 
ghostly  counsel  to  you,  which  will  be  likely  to 
protect  you  from  any  return  of  your  unhappy 
delusion.' 

"The  man  humbly  bowed  assent,  and  was  taken 
by  the  Mayor's  younger  sons  to  the  Mayor's  own 
house,  where  he  was  duly  cared  for.  About  mid- 
night, when  all  was  quiet,  he  was  conducted  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  town  towards  Clearwater,  and 
furnished  with  enough  money  to  provide  for  his 
more  pressing  necessities  till  he  could  reach  some 
relatives  who  reside  three  or  four  days'  walk  down 

on  the  road  towards  the  capital.     He  desired  the 

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The  Sunch'stonian  Versioi;i 

man  who  accompanied  him  to  repeat  to  the  Mayor 
his  heartfelt  thanks  for  the  forbearance  and  gene- 
rosity with  which  he  had  been  treated.  The 
remembrance  of  this,  he  said,  should  be  ever 
present  with  him,  and  he  was  confident  would 
protect  him  if  his  unhappy  monomania  shewed 
any  signs  of  returning. 

"  Let  us  now,  however,  remind  our  readers  that 
the  poacher  who  threatened  Professors  Hanky  and 
Panky's  life  on  Thursday  evening  last  is  still  at 
large.  He  is  evidently  a  man  of  desperate  char- 
acter, and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  our  fellow-citizens 
will  give  immediate  information  at  the  Ranger's 
office  if  they  see  any  stranger  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  preserves  whom  they  may  have  reasonable 
grounds  for  suspecting. 

"  P.S. — As  we  are  on  the  point  of  going  to  press 

we  learn  that  a  dangerous  lunatic,  who  has  been 

for  some  years  confined  in  the  Clearwater  asylum, 

succeeded  in  escaping  on  the  night  of  Wednesday 

last,  and  it  is  surmised  with  much  probability,  that 

this  was  the  man  who  threatened  the  two  Professors 

on  Thursday  evening.     His  being  alone,  his  having 

dared  to  light  a  fire,  probably  to  cook  quails  which 

he  had  been  driven  to  kill  from  stress  of  hunger, 

the  respectability  of  his  dress,  and  the  fury  with 

which  he  would  have  attacked  the  two  Professors 

single-handed,  but  for  Professor  Hanky's  presence 

of   mind    in   giving  him   a   knock-down    blow,  all 

point  in  the  direction  of  thinking  that  he  was  no 

true  poacher,  but,  what  is  even  more  dangerous — a 

265 


Erewhon   Revisited 

madman  at  large.  We  have  not  received  any  par- 
ticulars as  to  the  man's  appearance,  nor  the  clothes 
he  was  wearing,  but  we  have  little  doubt  that  these 
will  confirm  the  surmise  to  which  we  now  give 
publicity.  If  it  is  correct  it  becomes  doubly  incum- 
bent on  all  our  fellow-citizens  to  be  both  on  the 
watch,  and  on  their  guard. 

"  We  may  add  that  the  man  was  fully  believed  to 
have  taken  the  direction  towards  the  capital ;  hence 
no  attempts  were  made  to  look  for  him  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Sunch'ston,  until  news  of  the 
threatened  attack  on  the  Professors  led  the  keeper 
of  the  asylum  to  feel  confident  that  he  had  hitherto 
been  on  a  wrong  scent." 


266 


V 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MY  FATHER  IS  ESCORTED  TO  THE  MAYOR'S  HOUSE, 
AND  IS  INTRODUCED  TO  A  FUTURE  DAUGHTER- 
IN-LAW. 

My  father  said  he  was  followed  to  the  Mayor's 
house  by  a  good  many  people,  whom  the  Mayor's 
sons  in  vain  tried  to  get  rid  of.  One  or  two  of 
these  still  persisted  in  saying  he  was  the  Sunchild 
— whereon  another  said,  "  But  his  hair  is  black." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  a  man  can  dye  his 
hair,  can  he  not  ?  look  at  his  blue  eyes  and  his  eye- 
lashes ?  " 

My  father  was  doubting  whether  he  ought  not  to 

again  deny  his  identity  out  of  loyalty  to  the  Mayor 

and  Yram,  when  George's  next  brother  said,  "  Pay 

no  attention  to  them,  but  step  out  as  fast  as  you 

can."     This  settled  the  matter,  and  in  a  few  minutes 

they  were  at  the  Mayor's,  where  the  young  men 

took   him  into  the  study  ;    the  elder   said  with  a 

smile,  "  We  should  like  to  stay  and  talk  to  you,  but 

my  mother  said  we  were  not  to  do  so."     Whereon 

they  left  him  much  to  his  regret,  but  he  gathered 

rightly  that  they  had  not  been  officially  told  who 

he  was,  and  were  to  be  left  to  think  what  they  liked, 

at  any  rate  for  the  present. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  Mayor  entered,  and  going 
267 


Erewhon   Revisited 

straight  up  to  my  father  shook  him  cordially  by  the 
hand. 

"  I  have  brought  you  this  morning's  paper,"  said 
he.  "You  will  find  a  full  report  of  Professor 
Hanky's  sermon,  and  of  the  speeches  at  last  night's 
banquet.  You  see  they  pass  over  your  little  inter- 
ruption with  hardly  a  word,  but  I  dare  say  they  will 
have  made  up  their  minds  about  it  all  by  Thurs- 
day's issue." 

He  laughed  as  he  produced  the  paper — which  my 
father  brought  home  with  him,  and  without  which 
I  should  not  have  been  able  to  report  Hanky's 
sermon  as  fully  as  I  have  done.  But  my  father 
could  not  let  things  pass  over  thus  lightly. 

"  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  "but  I  have  much  more 
to  thank  you  for,  and  know  not  how  to  do  it." 

"  Can  you  not  trust  me  to  take  everything  as 
said  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  cannot  trust  myself  not  to  be  haunted 
if  I  do  not  say — or  at  any  rate  try  to  say — some 
part  of  what  I  ought  to  say." 

"  Very  well ;  then  I  will  say  something  myself.     I 

have  a  small  joke,  the  only  one  I  ever  made,  which 

I  inflict  periodically  upon  my  wife.     You,  and  I 

suppose  George,  are  the  only  two  other  people  in 

the  world  to  whom  it  can  ever  be  told  ;  let  me  see, 

then,  if  I  cannot  break  the  ice  with  it.     It  is  this^ 

Some  men  have  twin  sons  ;  George  in  this  topsy 

turvey  world  of  ours  has  twin  fathers — you  by  luck, 

and  me  by  cunning.     I  see  you  smile  ;  give  me  your 

hand." 

268 


At  the  Mayor's  House 

My  father  took  the  Mayor's  hand  between  both 
his  own.  "  Had  I  been  in  your  place,"  he  said, 
"  I  should  be  glad  to  hope  that  I  might  have  done 
as  you  did." 

"And  I,"  said  the  Mayor,  more  readily  than 
might  have  been  expected  of  him,  "  fear  that  if  I 
had  been  in  yours — I  should  have  made  it  the 
proper  thing  for  you  to  do.  There  1  The  ice  is 
well  broken,  and  now  for  business.  You  will  lunch 
with  us,  and  dine  in  the  evening.  I  have  given  it 
out  that  you  are  of  good  family,  so  there  is  nothing 
odd  in  this.  At  lunch  you  will  not  be  the  Sun- 
child,  for  my  younger  children  will  be  there  ;  at 
dinner  all  present  will  know  who  you  are,  so  we 
shall  be  free  as  soon  as  the  servants  are  out  of 
the  room. 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  I  must  send  you  away  with 
George  as  soon  as  the  streets  are  empty — say  at 
midnight — for  the  excitement  is  too  great  to  allow 
of  your  staying  longer.  We  must  keep  your  rug 
and  the  things  you  cook  with,  but  my  wife  will 
find  you  what  will  serve  your  turn.  There  is  no 
moon,  so  you  and  George  will  camp  out  as  soon 
as  you  get  well  on  to  the  preserves ;  the  weather 
is  hot,  and  you  will  neither  of  you  take  any  harm. 
To-morrow  by  mid-day  you  will  be  at  the  statues, 
where  George  must  bid  you  good-bye,  for  he  must 
be  at  Sunch'ston  to-morrow  night.  You  will  doubt- 
less get  safely  home  ;  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that 
I  could  hear  of  your  having  done  so,  but  this,  I  fear, 

may  not  be." 

269 


Erewhon   Revisited 


"So  be  it,"  replied  my  father,  "but  there  is 
something  I  should  yet  say.  The  Mayoress  has  no 
doubt  told  you  of  some  gold,  coined  and  uncoined, 
that  I  am  leaving  for  George.  She  will  also  have 
told  you  that  I  am  rich  ;  this  being  so,  1  should 
have  brought  him  much  more,  if  I  had  known  that 
there  was  any  such  person.  You  have  other  chil- 
dren ;  if  you  leave  him  anything,  you  will  be  taking 
it  away  from  your  own  flesh  and  blood ;  if  you 
leave  him  nothing,  it  will  be  a  slur  upon  him.  I 
must  therefore  send  you  enough  gold,  to  provide 
for  George  as  your  other  children  will  be  provided 
for ;  you  can  settle  it  upon  him  at  once,  and  make 
it  clear  that  the  settlement  is  instead  of  provision 
for  him  by  will.  The  difficulty  is  in  the  getting  the 
gold  into  Erewhon,  and  until  it  is  actually  here, 
he  must  know  nothing  about  it." 

I  have  no  space  for  the  discussion  that  followed. 
In  the  end  it  was  settled  that  George  was  to  have 
;^200o  in  gold,  which  the  Mayor  declared  to  be 
too  much,  and  my  father  too  little.  Both,  how- 
ever, were  agreed  that  Erewhon  would  before  long 
be  compelled  to  enter  into  relations  with  foreign 
countries,  in  which  case  the  value  of  gold  would 
decline  so  much  as  to  make  ;^2000  worth  little 
more  than  it  would  be  in  England.  The  Mayor 
proposed  to  buy  land  with  it,  which  he  would  hand 
over  to  George  as  a  gift  from  himself,  and  this  my 
father  at  once  acceded  to.  All  sorts  of  questions 
such  as  will  occur  to  the  reader  were  raised  and 

settled,  but  I   must  beg   him  to  be  content  with 

270 


At  the  Mayor's  House 

knowing  that  everything  was  arranged  with  the 
good  sense  that  two  such  men  were  sure  to  bring 
to  bear  upon  it. 

The  getting  the  gold  into  Erewhon  was  to  be 
managed  thus.  George  was  to  know  nothing,  but 
a  promise  was  to  be  got  from  him  that  at  noon  on 
the  following  New  Year's  day,  or  whatever  day 
might  be  agreed  upon,  he  would  be  at  the  statues, 
where  either  my  father  or  myself  would  meet  him, 
spend  a  couple  of  hours  with  him,  and  then  return. 
Whoever  met  George  was  to  bring  the  gold  as 
though  it  were  for  the  Mayor,  and  George  could 
be  trusted  to  be  human  enough  to  bring  it  down, 
when  he  saw  that  it  would  be  left  where  it  was  if 
he  did  not  do  so. 

"  He  will  kick  a  good  deal,"  said  the  Mayor,  "  at 
first,  but  he  will  come  round  in  the  end." 

Luncheon  was  now  announced.  My  father  was 
feeling  faint  and  ill ;  more  than  once  during  the 
forenoon  he  had  had  a  return  of  the  strange  giddiness 
and  momentary  loss  of  memory  which  had  already 
twice  attacked  him,  but  he  had  recovered  in  each 
case  so  quickly  that  no  one  had  seen  he  was  unwell. 
He,  poor  man,  did  not  yet  know  what  serious  brain 
exhaustion  these  attacks  betokened,  and  finding 
himself  in  his  usual  health  as  soon  as  they  passed 
away,  set  them  down  as  simply  effects  of  fatigue 
and  undue  excitement. 

George  did  not  lunch  with  the  others.     Yram 

explained  that  he  had  to  draw  up  a  report  which 

would   occupy   him   till   dinner   time.      Her  three 

271 


Erewhon   Revisited 

other  sons,  and  her  three  lovely  daughters,  were 
there.  My  father  was  delighted  with  all  of  them, 
for  they  made  friends  with  him  at  once.  He  had 
feared  that  he  would  have  been  disgraced  in  their 
eyes,  by  his  having  just  come  from  prison,  but 
whatever  they  may  have  thought,  no  trace  of  any- 
thing but  a  little  engaging  timidity  on  the  girls'  part 
was  to  be  seen.  The  two  elder  boys — or  rather 
young  men,  for  they  seemed  fully  grown,  though, 
like  George,  not  yet  bearded — treated  him  as  already 
an  old  acquaintance,  while  the  youngest,  a  lad  of 
fourteen,  walked  straight  up  to  him,  put  out  his 
hand,  and  said,  "  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  "  with  a 
pretty  blush  that  went  straight  to  my  father's 
heart. 

"These  boys,"  he  said  to  Yram  aside,  "who 
have  nothing  to  blush  for — see  how  the  blood 
mantles  into  their  young  cheeks,  while  I,  who 
should  blush  at  being  spoken  to  by  them,  cannot 
do  so." 

"  Do  not  talk  nonsense,"  said  Yram,  with  mock 
severity. 

But  it  was  no  nonsense  to  my  poor  father.     He 

was  awed  at  the  goodness  and  beauty  with  which 

he  found  himself  surrounded.     His  thoughts  were 

too  full  of  what  had  been,  what  was,  and  what  was 

yet  to  be,  to  let  him  devote  himself  to  these  young 

people  as  he  would  dearly  have  liked  to  do.     He 

could   only  look  at  them,  wonder  at  them,  fall  in 

love  with  them,  and  thank  heaven  that  George  had 

been  brought  up  in  such  a  household. 

272 


At  the  Mayor's  House 

When  luncheon  was  over,  Yram  said,  "  I  will 
now  send  you  to  a  room  where  you  can  lie  down 
and  go  to  sleep  for  a  few  hours.  You  will  be  out 
late  to-night,  and  had  better  rest  while  you  can. 
Do  you  remember  the  drink  you  taught  us  to 
make  of  corn  parched  and  ground  ?  You  used  to 
say  you  liked  it.  A  cup  shall  be  brought  to  your 
room  at  about  five,  for  you  must  try  and  sleep 
till  then.  If  you  notice  a  little  box  on  the  dressing- 
table  of  your  room,  you  will  open  it  or  no  as  you 
like.  About  half-past  five  there  will  be  a  visitor, 
whose  name  you  can  guess,  but  I  shall  not  let 
her  stay  long  with  you.  Here  comes  the  servant 
to  take  you  to  your  room."  On  this  she  smiled, 
and  turned  somewhat  hurriedly  away. 

My  father  on  reaching  his  room  went  to  the 
dressing-table,  where  he  saw  a  small  unpretending 
box,  which  he  immediately  opened.  On  the  top 
was  a  paper  with  the  words,  "  Look — say  nothing 
— forget."  Beneath  this  was  some  cotton  wool, 
and  then — the  two  buttons  and  the  lock  of  his 
own  hair,  that  he  had  given  Yram  when  he  said 
good-bye  to  her. 

The  ghost  of  the  lock  that  Yram  had  then  given 
him,  rose  from  the  dead,  and  smote  him  as  with  a 
whip  across  the  face.  On  what  dust-heap  had  it 
not  been  thrown  how  many  long  years  ago  ? 
Then  she  had  never  forgotten  him  ?  to  have  been 
remembered  all  these  years  by  such  a  woman  as 
that,  and  never  to  have  heeded  it — never  to  have 
found  out  what  she  was  though  he  had  seen  her 

273  s 


Erewhon   Revisited 

day  after  day  for  months.  Ah  !  but  she  was  then 
still  budding.  That  was  no  excuse.  If  a  loveable 
woman — aye,  or  any  woman — has  loved  a  man,  even 
though  he  cannot  marry  her,  or  even  wish  to  do  so, 
at  any  rate  let  him  not  forget  her — and  he  had 
forgotten  Yram  as  completely  until  the  last  few 
days,  as  though  he  had  never  seen  her.  He  took 
her  little  missive,  and  under  "  Look,"  he  wrote,  "  I 
have  ;  "  under  "  Say  nothing,"  "  I  will ;  "  under 
"forget,"  "never."  "And  I  never  shall,"  he  said 
to  himself,  as  he  replaced  the  box  upon  the  table. 
He  then  lay  down  to  rest  upon  the  bed,  but  he 
could  get  no  sleep. 

When  the  servant  brought  him  his  imitation 
coffee — an  imitation  so  successful  that  Yram  made 
him  a  packet  of  it  to  replace  the  tea  that  he  must 
leave  behind  him — he  rose  and  presently  came 
downstairs  into  the  drawing-room,  where  he  found 
Yram  and  Mrs.  Humdrum's  grand-daughter,  of 
whom  I  will  say  nothing,  for  I  have  never  seen 
her,  and  know  nothing  about  her,  except  that  my 
father  found  her  a  sweet-looking  girl,  of  graceful 
figure  and  very  attractive  expression.  He  was 
quite  happy  about  her,  but  she  was  too  young 
and  shy  to  make  it  possible  for  him  to  do  more 
than  admire  her  appearance,  and  take  Yram's  word 
for  it  that  she  was  as  good  as  she  looked. 


m 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

AFTER  DINNER,  DR.  DOWNIE  AND  THE  PROFESSORS 
WOULD  BE  GLAD  TO  KNOW  WHAT  IS  TO  BE 
DONE  ABOUT  SUNCHILDISM 

It  was  about  six  when  George's  fiancde  left  the 
house,  and  as  soon  as  she  had  done  so,  Yram 
began  to  see  about  the  rug  and  the  best  substi- 
tutes she  could  find  for  the  billy  and  pannikin. 
She  had  a  basket  packed  with  all  that  my  father  and 
George  would  want  to  eat  and  drink  while  on  the 
preserves,  and  enough  of  everything,  except  meat, 
to  keep  my  father  going  till  he  could  reach  the 
shepherd's  hut  of  which  I  have  already  spoken. 
Meat  would  not  keep,  and  my  father  could  get 
plenty  of  flappers — i.e.  ducks  that  cannot  yet  fly 
— when  he  was  on  the  river-bed  down  below. 

The  above  preparations  had  not  been  made  very 
long,  before  Mrs.  Humdrum  arrived,  followed  pre- 
sently by  Dr.  Downie  and  in  due  course  by  the 
Professors,  who  were  still  staying  in  the  house. 
My  father  remembered  Mrs.  Humdrum's  good 
honest  face,  but  could  not  bring  Dr.  Downie  to 
his  recollection  till  the  Doctor  told  him  when  and 
where  they  had  met,  and  then  he  could  only  very 
uncertainly  recall  him,  though  he  vowed  that  he 
could  now  do  so  perfectly  well. 

275 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Hanky,  advancing  towards 
him  with  his  best  Bridgeford  manner,  "  you  will 
not  have  forgotten  meeting  my  brother  Professor 
and  myself." 

"  It  has  been  rather  a  forgetting  sort  of  a  morn- 
ing," said  my  father  demurely,  "  but  I  can  remem- 
ber that  much,  and  am  delighted  to  renew  my 
acquaintance  with  both  of  you." 

As  he  spoke  he  shook  hands  with  both  Pro- 
fessors. 

George  was  a  little  late,  but  when  he  came,  dinner 
was  announced.  My  father  sat  on  Yram's  right- 
hand.  Dr.  Downie  on  her  left.  George  was  next 
my  father,  with  Mrs.  Humdrum  opposite  to  him. 
The  Professors  sat  one  on  either  side  of  the  Mayor. 
During  dinner  the  conversation  turned  almost 
entirely  on  my  father's  flight,  his  narrow  escape 
from  drowning,  and  his  adventures  on  his  return 
to  England  ;  about  these  last  my  father  was  very 
reticent,  for  he  said  nothing  about  his  book,  and 
antedated  his  accession  of  wealth  by  some  fifteen 
years,  but  as  he  walked  up  towards  the  statues 
with  George  he  told  him  everything. 

My  father  repeatedly  tried  to  turn  the  conversa- 
tion from  himself,  but  Mrs.  Humdrum  and  Yram 
wanted  to  know  about  Nna  Haras,  as  they  per- 
sisted in  calling  my  mother — how  she  endured  her 
terrible  experiences  in  the  balloon,  when  she  and 
my  father  were  married,  all  about  my  unworthy 
self,  and  England  generally.     No  matter  how  often 

he   began   to  ask  questions  about   the   Nosnibors 

276 


What  about  Sunchildism  ? 

and  other  old  acquaintances,  both  the  ladies  soon 
went  back  to  his  own  adventures.  He  succeeded, 
however,  in  learning  that  Mr.  Nosnibor  was  dead, 
and  Zulora,  an  old  maid  of  the  most  unattractive 
kind,  who  had  persistently  refused  to  accept  Sun- 
childism, while  Mrs.  Nosnibor  was  the  recipient  of 
honours  hardly  inferior  to  those  conferred  by  the 
people  at  large  on  my  father  and  mother,  with 
whom,  indeed,  she  believed  herself  to  have  frequent 
interviews  by  way  of  visionary  revelations.  So 
intolerable  were  these  revelations  to  Zulora,  that 
a  separate  establishment  had  been  provided  for 
her.  George  said  to  my  father  quietly — "  Do  you 
know  I  begin  to  think  that  Zulora  must  be  rather  a 
nice  person." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  my  father  grimly,  "  but  my  wife 
and  I  did  not  find  it  out." 

When  the  ladies  left  the  room,  Dr.  Downie  took 
Yram's  seat,  and  Hanky  Dr.  Downie's  ;  the  Mayor 
took  Mrs.  Humdrum's,  leaving  my  father,  George, 
and  Panky,  in  their  old  places.  Almost  imme- 
diately. Dr.  Downie  said,  "And  now,  Mr.  Higgs, 
tell  us,  as  a  man  of  the  world,  what  we  are  to  do 
about  Sunchildism  ?  " 

My  father  smiled  at  this.     "  You  know,  my  dear 

sir,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  the  proper  thing  would  be 

to  put  me  back  in  prison,  and  keep  me  there  till  you 

can  send  me  down  to  the  capital.     You  should  eat 

your  oaths  of  this  morning,  as  I  would  eat  mine  ; 

tell  every  one  here  who  I  am  ;  let  them  see  that  my 

hair  has  been  dyed  ;  get  all  who  knew  me  when  1 

277 


Erewhon   Revisited 

was  here  before  to  come  and  see  me ;  appoint  an 
unimpeachable  committee  to  examine  the  record 
of  my  marks  and  measurements,  and  compare  it 
with  those  of  my  own  body.  You  should  let  me 
be  seen  in  every  town  at  which  I  lodged  on  my 
way  down,  and  tell  people  that  you  had  made  a 
mistake.  When  you  get  to  the  capital,  hand  me 
over  to  the  King's  tender  mercies  and  say  that  our 
oaths  were  only  taken  this  morning  to  prevent  a 
ferment  in  the  town.  I  will  play  my  part  very 
willingly.  The  King  can  only  kill  me,  and  I  should 
die  like  a  gentleman." 

"  They  will  not  do  it,"  said  George  quietly  to  my 
father,  "  and  I  am  glad  of  it." 

He  was  right.  "This,"  said  Dr.  Downie,  "is  a 
counsel  of  perfection.  Things  have  gone  too  far, 
and  we  are  flesh  and  blood.  What  would  those 
who  in  your  country  come  nearest  to  us  Musical 
Bank  Managers  do,  if  they  found  they  had  made 
such  a  mistake  as  we  have,  and  dared  not  own  it  ?  " 

"  Do  not  ask  me,"  said  my  father ;  "  the  story  is 
too  long,  and  too  terrible." 

"  At  any  rate,  then,  tell  us  what  you  would  have 
us  do  that  is  within  our  reach." 

"  I  have  done  you  harm  enough,  and  if  I  preach, 
as  likely  as  not  I  shall  do  more." 

Seeing,  however,  that  Dr.  Downie  was  anxious  to 
hear  what  he  thought,  my  father  said — 

"  Then  I  must  tell  you.     Our  religion  sets  before 

us  an  ideal  which  we  all  cordially  accept,  but  it  also 

tells  us   of  marvels   like  your  chariot  and  horses, 

278 


What  about  Sunchildism  ? 

which  we  most  of  us  reject.  Our  best  teachers 
insist  on  the  ideal,  and  keep  the  marvels  in  the 
background.  If  they  could  say  outright  that  our 
age  has  outgrown  them,  they  would  say  so,  but  this 
they  may  not  do  ;  nevertheless  they  contrive  to  let 
their  opinions  be  sufficiently  well  known,  and  their 
hearers  are  content  with  this. 

"  We  have  others  who  take  a  very  different  course, 
but  of  these  I  will  not  speak.  Roughly,  then,  if  you 
cannot  abolish  me  altogether,  make  me  a  peg  on 
which  to  hang  all  your  own  best  ethical  and 
spiritual  conceptions.  If  you  will  do  this,  and 
wriggle  out  of  that  wretched  relic,  with  that  not  less 
wretched  picture — if  you  will  make  me  out  to  be 
much  better  and  abler  than  I  was,  or  ever  shall  be, 
Sunchildism  may  serve  your  turn  for  many  a  long 
year  to  come.  Otherwise  it  will  tumble  about  your 
heads  before  you  think  it  will. 

"  Am  I  to  go  on  or  stop  ?  " 

"  Go  on,"  said  George  softly.  That  was  enough 
for  my  father,  so  on  he  went. 

"  You  are  already  doing  part  of  what  I  wish.     I 

was   delighted  with   the  two  passages  I  heard  on 

Sunday,  from  what  you  call  the  Sunchild's  Sayings. 

I  never  said  a  word  of  either  passage  ;  I  wish  I  had  ; 

I  wish  I  could  say  anything  half  so  good.     And  I 

have  read  a  pamphlet  by  President  Gurgoyle,  which 

I  liked  extremely ;  but  I  never  said  what  he  says  I 

did.      Again,  I  wish  I  had.      Keep  to  this  sort  of 

thing,  and  I  will  be  as  good  a  Sunchildist  as  any 

of  you.     But  you  must  bribe  some  thief  to  steal 

279 


Erewhon   Revisited 

that  relic,  and  break  it  up  to  mend  the  roads  with  ; 
and — for  I  believe  that  here  as  elsewhere  fires  some- 
times get  lighted  through  the  carelessness  of  a  work- 
man— set  the  most  careless  workman  you  can  find 
to  do  a  plumbing  job  near  that  picture." 

Hanky  looked  black  at  this,  and  George  trod 
hghtly  on  my  father's  toe,  but  he  told  me  that  my 
father's  face  was  innocence  itself. 

"These  are  hard  sayings,"  said  Dr.  Downie. 

"  I  know  they  are,"  replied  my  father,  "  and  I  do 
not  like  saying  them,  but  there  is  no  royal  road  to 
unlearning,  and  you  have  much  to  unlearn.  Still, 
you  Musical  Bank  people  bear  witness  to  the  fact 
that  beyond  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  there  is 
another,  within  which  the  writs  of  this  world's 
kingdoms  do  not  run.  This  is  the  great  service 
which  our  church  does  for  us  in  England,  and 
hence  many  of  us  uphold  it,  though  we  have  no 
sympathy  with  the  party  now  dominant  within  it. 
'  Better,'  we  think,  '  a  corrupt  church  than  none  at 
all.'  Moreover,  those  who  in  my  country  would 
step  into  the  church's  shoes  are  as  corrupt  as  the 
church,  and  more  exacting.  They  are  also  more 
dangerous,  for  the  masses  distrust  the  church,  and 
are  on  their  guard  against  aggression,  whereas  they 
do  not  suspect  the  doctrinaires  and  faddists,  who, 
if  they  could,  would  interfere  in  every  concern  of 
our  lives. 

"  Let   me    return   to   yourselves.     You   Musical 

Bank   Managers  are   very  much   such   a   body  of 

men  as  your  country  needs — but  when  I  was  here 

280 


What  about  Sunchildism  ? 

before  you  had  no  figurehead  ;  I  have  unwittingly 
supplied  you  with  one,  and  it  is  perhaps  because 
you  saw  this,  that  you  good  people  of  Bridgeford 
took  up  with  me.  Sunchildism  is  still  young  and 
plastic;  if  you  will  let  the  cock-and-bull  stories 
about  me  tacitly  drop,  and  invent  no  new  ones, 
beyond  saying  what  a  delightful  person  I  was,  I 
really  cannot  see  why  I  should  not  do  for  you  as 
well  as  any  one  else. 

"There.  What  I  have  said  is  nine-tenths  of  it 
rotten  and  wrong,  but  it  is  the  most  practicable 
rotten  and  wrong  that  I  can  suggest,  seeing  into 
what  a  rotten  and  wrong  state  of  things  you  have 
drifted.  And  now,  Mr.  Mayor,  do  you  not  think 
we  may  join  the  Mayoress  and  Mrs.  Humdrum  ?  " 

"As  you  please,  Mr.  Higgs,"  answered  the 
Mayor. 

"Then  let  us  go,  for  I  have  said  too  much 
already,  and  your  son  George  tells  me  that  we 
must  be  starting  shortly." 

As  they  were  leaving  the  room  Panky  sidled  up 
to  my  father  and  said,  "There  is  a  point,  Mr.  Higgs, 
which  you  can  settle  for  me,  though  I  feel  pretty 
certain  how  you  will  settle  it.  I  think  that  a  cor- 
ruption has  crept  into  the  text  of  the  very  beauti- 
ful  " 

At  this  moment,  as  my  father,   who  saw  what 

was  coming,  was  wondering  what  in  the  world  he 

could  say,  George  came  up  to  him  and  said,  "  Mr. 

Higgs,  my  mother  wishes  me  to  take  you  down 

into  the  store-room,  to  make  sure  that  she  has  put 

281 


Erewhon   Revisited 

everything  for  you  as  you  would  like  it."  On  this 
my  father  said  he  would  return  directly  and  answer 
what  he  knew  would  be  Panky's  question. 

When  Yram  had  shewn  what  she  had  prepared 
— all  of  it,  of  course,  faultless — she  said,  "And  now, 
Mr.  Higgs,  about  our  leave-taking.  Of  course  we 
shall  both  of  us  feel  much.  I  shall ;  I  know  you 
will ;  George  will  have  a  few  more  hours  with  you 
than  the  rest  of  us,  but  his  time  to  say  good-bye 
will  come,  and  it  will  be  painful  to  both  of  you. 
I  am  glad  you  came — I  am  glad  you  have  seen 
George,  and  George  you,  and  that  you  took  to  one 
another.  I  am  glad  my  husband  has  seen  you  ;  he 
has  spoken  to  me  about  you  very  warmly,  for  he 
has  taken  to  you  much  as  George  did.  I  am  very, 
very  glad  to  have  seen  you  myself,  and  to  have 
learned  what  became  of  you — and  of  your  wife.  I 
know  you  wish  well  to  all  of  us ;  be  sure  that  we 
all  of  us  wish  most  heartily  well  to  you  and  yours. 
I  sent  for  you  and  George,  because  I  could  not  say 
all  this  unless  we  were  alone ;  it  is  all  I  can  do," 
she  said,  with  a  smile,  "  to  say  it  now." 

Indeed  it  was,  for  the  tears  were  in  her  eyes  all 
the  time,  as  they  were  also  in  my  father's. 

"  Let  this,"  continued  Yram,  "  be  our  leave-taking 
— for  we  must  have  nothing  like  a  scene  upstairs. 
Just  shake  hands  with  us  all,  say  the  usual  conven- 
tional things,  and  make  it  as  short  as  you  can  ;  but 
I  could  not  bear  to  send  you  away  without  a  few 
warmer  words  than  I  could  have  said  when  others 

were  in  the  room." 

282 


What  about  Sunchildism  ? 

"  May  heaven  bless  you  and  yours,"  said  my 
father,  "  for  ever  and  ever." 

"  That  will  do,"  said  George  gently.  "  Now,  both 
of  you  shake  hands,  and  come  upstairs  with  me." 


When  all  three  of  them  had  got  calm,  for  George 
had  been  moved  almost  as  much  as  his  father  and 
mother,  they  went  upstairs,  and  Panky  came  for 
his  answer.  "You  are  very  possibly  right,"  said 
my  father — "the  version  you  hold  to  be  corrupt 
is  the  one  in  common  use  amongst  ourselves,  but 
it  is  only  a  translation,  and  very  possibly  only  a 
translation  of  a  translation,  so  that  it  may  perhaps 
have  been  corrupted  before  it  reached  us." 

"That,"  said  Panky,  "will  explain  everything," 
and  he  went  contentedly  away. 

My  father  talked  a  little  aside  with  Mrs.  Humdrum 
about  her  grand-daughter  and  George,  for  Yram 
had  told  him  that  she  knew  all  about  the  attach- 
ment, and  then  George,  who  saw  that  my  father 
found  the  greatest  difficulty  in  maintaining  an  out- 
ward calm,  said,  "  Mr.  Higgs,  the  streets  are  empty; 
we  had  better  go." 

My  father  did  as  Yram   had   told   him ;    shook 

hands  with  every  one,  said  all  that  was  usual  and 

proper  as  briefly  as  he  could,  and  followed  George 

out   of   the   room.     The   Mayor  saw  them  to  the 

door,  and  saved  my  father  from  embarrassment  by 

saying,   "  Mr.    Higgs,  you   and    I    understand   one 

another  too  well  to  make  it  necessary  for  us  to  say 

283 


Erewhon  Revisited 

so.  Good-bye  to  you,  and  may  no  ill  befall  you  ere 
you  get  home." 

My  father  grasped  his  hand  in  both  his  own. 
"  Again,"  he  said,  "  I  can  say  no  more  than  that  I 
thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart." 

As  he  spoke  he  bowed  his  head,  and  went  out 
with  George  into  the  night. 


284 


CHAPTER    XXV 

GEORGE  ESCORTS   MY   FATHER  TO  THE  STATUES; 
THE   TWO   THEN    PART 

The  streets  were  quite  deserted  as  George  had  said 
they  would  be,  and  very  dark,  save  for  an  occa- 
sional oil  lamp. 

"As  soon  as  we  can  get  within  the  preserves," 
said  George,  "  we  had  better  wait  till  morning.  I 
have  a  rug  for  myself  as  well  as  for  you." 

"  I  saw  you  had  two,"  answered  my  father  ;  "  you 
must  let  me  carry  them  both  ;  the  provisions  are 
much  the  heavier  load. 

George  fought  as  hard  as  a  dog  would  do,  till  my 
father  said  that  they  must  not  quarrel  during  the 
very  short  time  they  had  to  be  together.  On  this 
George  gave  up  one  rug  meekly  enough,  and  my 
father  yielded  about  the  basket,  and  the  other  rug. 

It  was  about  half-past  eleven  when  they  started, 
and  it  was  after  one  before  they  reached  the  pre- 
serves. For  the  first  mile  from  the  town  they  were 
not  much  hindered  by  the  darkness,  and  my  father 
told  George  about  his  book  and  many  another 
matter  ;  he  also  promised  George  to  say  nothing 
about  this  second  visit.  Then  the  road  became 
more  rough,  and  when  it  dwindled  away  to  be  a 
mere  lane — becoming  presently  only  a  foot  track — 

28s 


Erewhon  Revisited 

they  had  to  mind  their  footsteps,  and  got  on  but 
slowly.  The  night  was  starlit,  and  warm,  consider- 
ing that  they  were  more  than  three  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea,  but  it  was  very  dark,  so  that  my 
father  was  well  enough  pleased  when  George 
showed  him  the  white  stones  that  marked  the 
boundary,  and  said  they  had  better  soon  make 
themselves  as  comfortable  as  they  could  till 
morning. 

"We  can  stay  here,"  he  said,  "till  half-past  three, 
there  will  be  a  little  dayhght  then  ;  we  will  rest 
half  an  hour  for  breakfast  at  about  five,  and  by 
noon  we  shall  be  at  the  statues,  where  we  will 
dine." 

This  being  settled,  George  rolled  himself  up  in 
his  rug,  and  in  a  few  minutes  went  comfortably 
off  to  sleep.  Not  so  my  poor  father.  He  wound 
up  his  watch,  wrapped  his  rug  round  him,  and 
lay  down ;  but  he  could  get  no  sleep.  After  such 
a  day,  and  such  an  evening,  how  could  any  one 
have  slept  ? 

About  three  the  first  signs  of  dawn  began  to 
show,  and  half  an  hour  later  my  father  could  see 
the  sleeping  face  of  his  son — whom  it  went  to  his 
heart  to  wake.  Nevertheless  he  woke  him,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  the  two  were  on  their  way — George 
as  fresh  as  a  lark — my  poor  father  intent  on  no- 
thing so  much  as  on  hiding  from  George  how  ill 
and  unsound  in  body  and  mind  he  was  feeling. 

They  walked  on,  saying  but  little,  till  at  five  by 

my   father's   watch   George    proposed    a    halt    for 

286 


Back  to  the  Statues 

breakfast.  The  spot  he  chose  was  a  grassy 
oasis  among  the  trees,  carpeted  with  subalpine 
flowers,  now  in  their  fullest  beauty,  and  close  to 
a  small  stream  that  here  came  down  from  a  side 
valley.  The  freshness  of  the  morning  air,  the 
extreme  beauty  of  the  place,  the  lovely  birds  that 
flitted  from  tree  to  tree,  the  exquisite  shapes  and 
colours  of  the  flowers,  still  dew-bespangled,  and 
above  all,  the  tenderness  with  which  George  treated 
him,  soothed  my  father,  and  when  he  and  George 
had  lit  a  fire  and  made  some  hot  corn-coffee — 
with  a  view  to  which  Yram  had  put  up  a  bottle 
of  milk — he  felt  so  much  restored  as  to  look  for- 
ward to  the  rest  of  his  journey  without  alarm. 
Moreover  he  had  nothing  to  carry,  for  George 
had  left  his  own  rug  at  the  place  where  they  had 
slept,  knowing  that  he  should  find  it  on  his  return  ; 
he  had  therefore  insisted  on  carrying  my  father's. 
My  father  fought  as  long  as  he  could,  but  he  had 
to  give  in. 

"  Now  tell  me,"  said  George,  glad  to  change  the 
subject,  "  what  will  those  three  men  do  about  what 
you  said  to  them  last  night  ?  Will  they  pay  any 
attention  to  it  ?  " 

My  father  laughed.  "  My  dear  George,  what  a 
question — I  do  not  know  them  well  enough." 

"Oh  yes,  you  do.  At  any  rate  say  what  you 
think  most  likely." 

"Very  well.     I  think  Dr.  Downie  will  do  much 

as   I   said.     He   will   not   throw   the   whole   thing 

over,  through   fear   of  schism,  loyalty  to  a  party 

287 


Erewhon  Revisited 

from  which  he  cannot  well  detach  himself,  and 
because  he  does  not  think  that  the  public  is  quite 
tired  enough  of  its  toy.  He  will  neither  preach 
nor  write  against  it,  but  he  will  live  lukewarmly 
against  it,  and  this  is  what  the  Hankys  hate. 
They  can  stand  either  hot  or  cold,  but  they  are 
afraid  of  lukewarm.  In  England  Dr.  Downie  would 
be  a  Broad  Churchman." 

"  Do  you  think  we  shall  ever  get  rid  of  Sun- 
childism  altogether  ?  " 

"  If  they  stick  to  the  cock-and-bull  stories  they 
are  telling  now,  and  rub  them  in,  as  Hanky  did 
on  Sunday,  it  may  go,  and  go  soon.  It  has  taken 
root  too  quickly  and  easily  ;  and  its  top  is  too 
heavy  for  its  roots  ;  still  there  are  so  many  chances 
in  its  favour  that  it  may  last  a  long  time." 

"  And  how  about  Hanky  ?  " 

"  He  will  brazen  it  out,  relic,  chariot,  and  all : 
and  he  will  welcome  more  relics  and  more  cock- 
and-bull  stories ;  his  single  eye  will  be  upon 
his  own  aggrandisement  and  that  of  his  order. 
Plausible,  unscrupulous,  heartless  scoundrel  that 
he  is,  he  will  play  for  the  queen  and  the  women 
of  the  court,  as  Dr.  Downie  will  play  for  the  king 
and  the  men.  He  and  his  party  will  sleep  neither 
night  nor  day,  but  they  will  have  one  redeeming 
feature — whoever  they  may  deceive,  they  will  not 
deceive  themselves.  They  believe  every  one  else 
to  be  as  bad  as  they  are,  and  see  no  reason  why 
they  should  not  push  their  own  wares  in  the  way 

of  business.     Hanky  is  everything  that  we  in  Eng- 

288 


Back  to  the  Statues 

land  rightly  or  wrongly  believe  a  typical  Jesuit 
to  be." 

"  And  Panky — what  about  him  ?  " 

"  Panky  must  persuade  himself  of  his  own  lies, 
before  he  is  quite  comfortable  about  telling  them  to 
other  people.  Hanky  keeps  Hanky  well  out  of  it  ; 
Panky  must  have  a  base  of  operations  in  Panky. 
Hanky  will  lead  him  by  the  nose,  bit  by  bit,  for  his 
is  the  master  spirit.  In  England  Panky  would  be 
what  we  call  an  extreme  ritualist." 

"  Then  the  real  battle  will  be  between  Hanky  and 
Dr.  Downie.     Which  will  carry  the  day  ?  " 

"  For  the  present,  probably  Hanky.  He  is  the 
more  vigilant,  and  energetic  ;  in  this  case  Sun- 
childism  will  have  to  go,  and  I  am  afraid  your 
whole  Musical  Bank  system  will  be  swept  away 
along  with  it." 

"  And  why  not  ?  " 

"  Because,  my  dear  boy,  though  false  in  the 
letter,  if  good  counsels  prevail,  it  may  be  made  true 
enough  in  spirit.  If  it  were  to  go,  its  place  would 
be  soon  filled  by  men  who  would  be  as  false  in 
letter  as  the  others  were,  and  much  more  false  in 
spirit.  You  want  a  heart  to  check  your  head,  and 
a  head  to  check  your  heart.  As  in  our  English 
body  politic  there  are  two  parties  opposed  to  one 
another,  neither  of  which  can  thrive  if  the  other  is 
unduly  weakened,  so  in  our  spiritual  and  intellec- 
tual world  two  parties  more  or  less  antagonistic  are 
equally  necessary.    Those  who  are  at  the  head  of 

science  provide  us  with  the  one  party  ;  those  whom 

289  T 


Erewhon   Revisited 

we  call  our  clnirchmen  are  the  other.  Both  are 
corrupt,  but  we  can  spare  neither,  for  each  checks 
as  far  as  it  can  the  corruptions  of  the  other." 

"  Then  you  would  have  us  uphold  Sunchildism, 
knowing  it  to  be  untrue  ?  " 

"  Do  what  you  will,  you  will  not  get  perfect  truth. 
And  if  you  can  follow  the  lead  which  I  believe  Dr. 
Downie  will  give  you,  that  is  to  say,  get  rid  of  cock- 
and-bull  stories,  idealise  my  unworthy  self,  and,  as 
I  said  last  night,  make  me  a  peg  on  which  to  hang 
your  own  best  thoughts — Sunchildism  will  be  as 
near  truth  as  anything  you  are  likely  to  get.  But 
if  Hankyism  triumphs,  come  what  may  you  must 
get  rid  of  it,  for  he  and  his  school  will  tamper  with 
the  one  sure  and  everlasting  word  of  God  revealed 
to  us  by  human  experience.  He  who  plays  fast 
and  loose  with  this  is  as  one  who  would  forge 
God's  signature  to  a  cheque  drawn  on  God's  own 
bank." 

"  Are  we  to  foster  the  belief  that  it  was  indeed 
the  Sunchild  who  interrupted  Hanky's  sermon  ?" 

"  Yes,  where  you  safely  can,  but  not  otherwise  ; 
and  commit  the  facts  to  writing  as  soon  as  you  can 
find  time.  Do  nothing  to  jeopardise  your  own 
safety  ;  you  can  do  more  by  perfunctory  acquies- 
cence than  by  open  dissent.  And  tell  those  friends 
whom  you  can  trust,  what  these  my  parting  words 
to  you  have  been.  But  above  all  I  charge  you 
solemnly,  do  nothing  to  jeopardise  your  own  safety  ; 
you  cannot  play  into  Hanky's  hands  more  certainly 

than  by  risking  this.      Think  how  he  and  Panky 

290 


Back  to  the  Statues 

would  rejoice,  and  how  Dr.  Downie  would  grieve. 
Be  wise  and  wary  ;  bide  your  time  ;  do  what  you 
prudently  can,  and  you  will  find  you  can  do  much  ; 
try  to  do  more,  and  you  will  do  nothing.  Be  guided 
by  the  Mayor,  by  your  mother — and  by  that  dear 
old  lady  whose  grandson  you  will " 

"Then  they  have  told  you,"  interrupted  the  youth 
blushing  scarlet. 

"  My  dearest  boy,  of  course  they  have,  and  I  have 
seen  her,  and  am  head  over  ears  in  love  with  her 
myself." 

He  was  all  smiles  and  blushes,  and  vowed  for  a 
few  minutes  that  it  was  a  shame  of  them  to  tell  me, 
but  presently  he  said — 

"  Then  you  like  her." 

"  Rather  ! "  said  my  father  vehemently,  and  shak- 
ing George  by  the  hand.  But  he  said  nothing  about 
the  nuggets  and  the  sovereigns,  knowing  that  Yram 
did  not  wish  him  to  do  so.  Neither  did  George  say 
anything  about  his  determination  to  start  for  the 
capital  in  the  morning,  and  make  a  clean  breast  of 
everything  to  the  King.  So  soon  does  it  become 
necessary  even  for  those  who  are  most  cordially 
attached  to  hide  things  from  one  another.  My 
father,  however,  was  made  comfortable  by  receiv- 
ing a  promise  from  the  youth  that  he  would  take 
no  step  of  which  the  persons  he  had  named  would 
disapprove. 

When  once  Mrs,  Humdrum's  grand-daughter  had 

been  introduced  there  was  no  more  talking  about 

Hanky  and    Panky  ;   for   George  began  to  bubble 

291 


Erewhon   Revisited 

over  with  the  subject  that  was  nearest  his  heart, 
and  how  much  he  feared  that  it  would  be  some 
time  yet  before  he  could  be  married.  Many  a 
story  did  he  tell  of  his  early  attachment  and  of  its 
course  for  the  last  ten  years,  but  my  space  will  not 
allow  me  to  inflict  one  of  them  on  the  reader. 
My  father  saw  that  the  more  he  listened  and 
sympathised  and  encouraged,  the  fonder  George 
became  of  him,  and  this  was  all  he  cared  about. 

Thus  did  they  converse  hour  after  hour.  They 
passed  the  Blue  Pool,  without  seeing  it  or  even 
talking  about  it  for  more  than  a  minute.  George 
kept  an  eye  on  the  quails  and  declared  them  fairly 
plentiful  and  strong  on  the  wing,  but  nothing  now 
could  keep  him  from  pouring  out  his  whole  heart 
about  Mrs.  Humdrum's  grand-daughter,  until  to- 
wards noon  they  caught  sight  of  the  statues,  and  a 
halt  was  made  which  gave  my  father  the  first  pang 
he  had  felt  that  morning,  for  he  knew  that  the 
statues  would  be  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

There  was  no  need  to  light  a  fire,  for  Yram  had 

packed  for  them  two  bottles  of  a  delicious  white 

wine,   something    like    White    Capri,   which   went 

admirably  with  the  many  more  solid  good  things 

that  she  had  provided  for  them.     As  soon  as  they 

had    finished    a    hearty   meal    my  father   said  to 

George,  "  You  must  have  my  watch  for  a  keepsake  ; 

I  see  you  are  not  wearing  my  boots.     I  fear  you 

did  not  find  them  comfortable,  but  I  am  glad  you 

have  not  got  them  on,  for  I  have  set  my  heart  on 

keeping  yours." 

292 


Back  to  the  Statues 


"Let  us  settle  about  the  boots  first.  I  rather 
fancied  that  that  was  why  you  put  me  off  when  I 
wanted  to  get  my  own  back  again  ;  and  then  I 
thought  I  should  like  yours  for  a  keepsake,  so  I 
put  on  another  pair  last  night,  and  they  are  no- 
thing like  so  comfortable  as  yours  were." 

"  Now  I  wonder,"  said  my  father  to  me,  "  whether 
this  was  true,  or  whether  it  was  only  that  dear 
fellow's  pretty  invention  ;  but  true  or  false  I  was 
as  delighted  as  he  meant  me  to  be." 

I  asked  George  about  this  when  I  saw  him,  and 
he  confessed  with  an  ingenuous  blush  that  my 
father's  boots  had  hurt  him,  and  that  he  had  never 
thought  of  making  a  keepsake  of  them,  till  my 
father's  words  stimulated  his  invention. 

As  for  the  watch,  which  was  only  a  silver  one, 
but  of  the  best  make,  George  protested  for  a  time, 
but  when  he  had  yielded,  my  father  could  see  that 
he  was  overjoyed  at  getting  it ;  for  watches,  though 
now  permitted,  were  expensive  and  not  in  common 
use. 

Having  thus  bribed  him,  my  father  broached 
the  possibility  of  his  meeting  him  at  the  statues 
on  that  day  twelvemonth,  but  of  course  saying 
nothing  about  why  he  was  so  anxious  that  he 
should  come. 

"  I   will   come,"    said    my   father,   "  not   a  yard 

farther  than  the  statues,  and  if  I  cannot  come  I 

will  send  your  brother.     And  I  will  come  at  noon  ; 

but  it  is  possible  that  the  river  down  below  may 

be  in  fresh,  and  I  may  not  be  able  to  hit  off  the 

293 


Erewhon   Revisited 

day,  though  I  will  move  heaven  and  earth  to  do 
so.  Therefore  if  I  do  not  meet  you  on  the  day 
appointed,  do  your  best  to  come  also  at  noon  on 
the  following  day.  I  know  how  inconvenient  this 
will  be  for  you,  and  will  come  true  to  the  day  if  it 
is  possible." 

To  my  father's  surprise,  George  did  not  raise  so 
many  difficulties  as  he  had  expected.  He  said  it 
might  be  done,  if  neither  he  nor  my  father  were 
to  go  beyond  the  statues.  "  And  difficult  as  it 
will  be  for  you,"  said  George,  "you  had  better 
come  a  second  day  if  necessary,  as  I  will,  for  who 
can  tell  what  might  happen  to  make  the  first  day 
impossible  ?" 

"Then,"  said  my  father,  "we  shall  be  spared 
that  horrible  feeling  that  we  are  parting  without 
hope  of  seeing  each  other  again.  I  find  it  hard 
enough  to  say  good-bye  even  now,  but  I  do  not 
know  how  I  could  have  faced  it  if  you  had  not 
agreed  to  our  meeting  again." 

"The  day  fixed  upon  will  be  our  XXI.  i.  3,  and 
the  hour  noon  as  near  as  may  be  ?  " 

"So.  Let  me  write  it  down  :  'XXI.  i.  3,  i.e,  our 
December  9,  1891,  I  am  to  meet  George  at  the 
statues,  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  if  he  does  not  come, 
I  am  to  be  there  again  on  the  following  day.' " 

In  like  manner,  George  wrote  down  what  he  was 
to  do  :  "  XXI.  i.  3,  or  failing  this  XXI.  i.  4.  Statues. 
Noon." 

"This,"   he    said,    "is   a   solemn  covenant,  is   it 

not  ?  " 

294 


Back  to  the  Statues 

"Yes,"  said  my  father,  "and  may  all  good  omens 
attend  it  1 " 

The  words  were  not  out  of  his  mouth  before  a 
mountain  bird,  something  like  our  jackdaw,  but 
smaller  and  of  a  bluer  black,  flew  out  of  the  hollow 
mouth  of  one  of  the  statues,  and  with  a  hearty 
chuckle  perched  on  the  ground  at  his  feet,  attracted 
doubtless  by  the  scraps  of  food  that  were  lying 
about.  With  the  fearlessness  of  birds  in  that 
country,  it  looked  up  at  him  and  George,  gave 
another  hearty  chuckle,  and  flew  back  to  its  statue 
with  the  largest  fragment  it  could  find. 

They  settled  that  this  was  an  omen  so  propitious 
that  they  could  part  in  good  hope.  "  Let  us  finish 
the  wine,"  said  my  father,  "and  then,  do  what 
must  be  done." 

They  finished  the  wine  to  each  other's  good 
health  ;  George  drank  also  to  mine,  and  said  he 
hoped  my  father  would  bring  me  with  him,  while 
my  father  drank  to  Yram,  the  Mayor,  their  chil- 
dren, Mrs.  Humdrum,  and  above  all  to  Mrs.  Hum- 
drum's grand-daughter.  They  then  re-packed  all 
that  could  be  taken  away ;  my  father  rolled  his 
rug  to  his  liking,  slung  it  over  his  shoulder,  gripped 
George's  hand,  and  said,  "  My  dearest  boy,  when 
we  have  each  turned  our  backs  upon  one  another, 
let  us  walk  our  several  ways  as  fast  as  we  can,  and 
try  not  to  look  behind  us." 

So  saying  he  loosed  his  grip  of  George's  hand, 
bared  his  head,  lowered  it,  and  turned  away. 

George  burst  into  tears,  and  followed  him  after 

295 


Erewhon   Revisited 

he  had  gone  two  paces  ;  he  threw  his  arms  round 
him,  hugged  him,  kissed  him  on  his  Hps,  cheeks, 
and  forehead,  and  then  turning  round,  strode  full 
speed  towards  Sunch'ston.  My  father  never  took 
his  eyes  off  him  till  he  was  out  of  sight,  but  the 
boy  did  not  look  round.  When  he  could  see  him 
no  more,  my  father  with  faltering  gait,  and  feeling 
as  though  a  prop  had  suddenly  been  taken  from 
under  him,  began  to  follow  the  stream  down  to- 
wards his  old  camp. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

MY   FATHER   REACHES   HOME,   AND   DIES  NOT  LONG 
AFTERWARDS 

My  father  could  walk  but  slowly,  for  George's  boots 

had  blistered  his  feet,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 

river-bed,  of  which  he  caught  glimpses  now  and 

again,  never  got  any  nearer  ;  but  all  things  come 

to  an  end,  ahd  by  seven  o'clock  on  the  night  of 

Tuesday,  he  was  on  the  spot  which  he  had  left  on 

the  preceding  Friday  morning.    Three  entire  days 

had  intervened,  but  he  felt  that  something,  he  knew 

not  what,  had  seized  him,  and  that  whereas  before 

these  three  days  life  had  been  one  thing,  what  little 

might  follow  them,  would  be  another — and  a  very 

different  one. 

He  soon  caught  sight  of  his  horse  which  had 

strayed   a  mile  lower  down  the  river-bed,  and  in 

spite  of  his  hobbles  had  crossed  one  ugly  stream 

that   my  father  dared   not   ford   on    foot.      Tired 

though  he  was,  he  went  after  him,  bridle  in  hand, 

and  when  the  friendly  creature  saw  him,  it  recrossed 

the  stream,  and  came  to  him  of  its  own  accord — 

either  tired  of  his  own  company,  or  tempted  by 

some  bread  my  father  held  out  towards  him.     My 

father  took  off  the  hobbles,  and  rode  him  bare- 

297 


Erewhon   Revisited 

backed  to  the  camping  ground,  where  he  rewarded 
him  with  more  bread  and  biscuit,  and  then  hobbled 
him  again  for  the  night. 

"  It  was  here/'  he  said  to  me  on  one  of  the  first 
days  after  his  return,  "  that  I  first  knew  myself  to 
be  a  broken  man.  As  for  meeting  George  again,  I 
felt  sure  that  it  would  be  all  I  could  do  to  meet  his 
brother ;  and  though  George  was  always  in  my 
thoughts,  it  was  for  you  and  not  him  that  I  was 
now  yearning.  When  I  gave  George  my  watch, 
how  glad  I  was  that  I  had  left  my  gold  one  at 
home,  for  that  is  yours,  and  I  could  not  have 
brought  myself  to  give  it  him." 

"  Never  mind  that,  my  dear  father,"  said  I,  "  but 
tell  me  how  you  got  down  the  river,  and  thence 
home  again." 

"  My  very  dear  boy,"  he  said,  "  I  can  hardly 
remember,  and  I  had  no  energy  to  make  any  more 
notes.  I  remember  putting  a  scrap  of  paper  into 
the  box  of  sovereigns,  merely  sending  George  my 
love  along  with  the  money  ;  I  remember  also  drop- 
ping the  box  into  a  hole  in  a  tree,  which  I  blazed, 
and  towards  which  I  drew  a  line  of  wood-ashes. 
I  seem  to  see  a  poor  unhinged  creature  gazing 
moodily  for  hours  into  a  lire  which  he  heaps  up 
now  and  again  with  wood.  There  is  not  a  breath 
of  air ;  Nature  sleeps  so  calmly  that  she  dares  not 
even  breathe  for  fear  of  waking ;  the  very  river  has 
hushed  his  flow.  Without,  the  starlit  calm  of  a 
summer's   night  in  a   great  wilderness ;  within,  a 

hurricane  of  wild  and  incoherent  thoughts  battling 

298 


The  Homeward  Journey 

with  one  another  in  their  fury  to  fall  upon  him  and 
rend  him — and  on  the  other  side  the  great  wall  of 
mountain,  thousands  of  children  praying  at  their 
mother's  knee  to  this  poor  dazed  thing.  I  suppose 
this  half  delirious  wretch  must  have  been  myself. 
But  I  must  have  been  more  ill  when  I  left  England 
than  I  thought  I  was,  or  Erewhon  would  not  have 
broken  me  down  as  it  did." 

No  doubt  he  was  right.  Indeed  it  was  because 
Mr.  Cathie  and  his  doctor  saw  that  he  was  out  of 
health  and  in  urgent  need  of  change,  that  they  left 
off  opposing  his  wish  to  travel.  There  is  no  use, 
however,  in  talking  about  this  now. 

I  never  got  from  him  how  he  managed  to  reach 
the  shepherd's  hut,  but  I  learned  some  little  from  the 
shepherd,  when  I  stayed  with  him  both  on  going 
towards  Erewhon,  and  on  returning. 

"  He  did  not  seem  to  have  drink  in  him,"  said 
the  shepherd,  "  when  he  first  came  here  ;  but  he 
must  have  been  pretty  full  of  it,  or  he  must  have 
had  some  bottles  in  his  saddle-bags ;  for  he  was 
awful  when  he  came  back.  He  had  got  them 
worse  than  any  man  I  ever  saw,  only  that  he  was 
not  awkward.  He  said  there  was  a  bird  flying 
out  of  a  giant's  mouth  and  laughing  at  him,  and 
he  kept  muttering  about  a  blue  pool,  and  hanky- 
panky  of  all  sorts,  and  he  said  he  knew  it  was  all 
hanky-panky,  at  least  I  thought  he  said  so,  but  it 
was  no  use  trying  to  follow  him,  for  it  was  all 
nothing   but   horrors.     He  said  I  was  to  stop  the 

people  from  trying  to  worship  him.     Then  he  said 

299 


Erewhon   Revisited 

the  sky  opened  and  he  could  see  the  angels  going 
about  and  singing  '  Hallelujah.'  " 

"  How  long  did  he  stay  with  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

"About  ten  days,  but  the  last  three  he  was 
himself  again,  only  too  weak  to  move.  He  thought 
he  was  cured  except  for  weakness." 

"  Do  you  know  how  he  had  been  spending  the  last 
two  days  or  so  before  he  got  down  to  your  hut  ? " 

I  said  two  days,  because  this  was  the  time  I 
supposed  he  would  take  to  descend  the  river. 

"  I  should  say  drinking  all  the  time.  He  said  he 
had  fallen  off  his  horse  two  or  three  times,  till  he 
took  to  leading  him.  If  he  had  had  any  other 
horse  than  old  Doctor  he  would  have  been  a  dead 
man.  Bless  you,  I  have  known  that  horse  ever 
since  he  was  foaled,  and  I  never  saw  one  like  him 
for  sense.  He  would  pick  fords  better  than  that 
gentleman  could,  I  know,  and  if  the  gentleman 
fell  off  him  he  would  just  stay  stock  still.  He  was 
badly  bruised,  poor  man,  when  he  got  here.  I  saw 
him  through  the  gorge  when  he  left  me,  and  he 
gave  me  a  sovereign ;  he  said  he  had  only  one 
other  left  to  take  him  down  to  the  port,  or  he 
would  have  made  it  more." 

"He  was  my  father,"  said  I,  "and  he  is  dead, 
but  before  he  died  he  told  me  to  give  you  five 
pounds  which  I  have  brought  you.  I  think  you 
are  wrong  in  saying  that  he  had  been  drinking." 

"That  is  what  they  all  say;  but  I  take  it  very 
kind  of  him  to  have  thought  of  me." 

My  father's  illness  for  the  first  three  weeks  after 
300 


The   Homeward  Journey 

his  return  played  with  him  as  a  cat  plays  with  a 
mouse  ;  now  and  again  it  would  let  him  have  a 
day  or  two's  run,  during  which  he  was  so  cheerful 
and  unclouded  that  his  doctor  was  quite  hopeful 
about  him.  At  various  times  on  these  occasions 
I  got  from  him  that  when  he  left  the  shepherd's 
hut,  he  thought  his  illness  had  run  itself  out,  and 
that  he  should  now  reach  the  port  from  which  he 
was  to  sail  for  S.  Francisco  without  misadventure. 
This  he  did,  and  he  was  able  to  do  all  he  had  to 
do  at  the  port,  though  frequently  attacked  with 
passing  fits  of  giddiness.  I  need  not  dwell  upon 
his  voyage  to  S.  Francisco,  and  thence  home ;  it 
is  enough  to  say  that  he  was  able  to  travel  by 
himself  in  spite  of  gradually,  but  continually,  in- 
creasing failure. 

"When,"  he  said,  "I  reached  the  port,  I  tele- 
graphed as  you  know,  for  more  money.  How 
puzzled  you  must  have  been.  I  sold  my  horse  to 
the  man  from  whom  I  bought  it,  at  a  loss  of  only 
about  ;^io,  and  I  left  with  him  my  saddle,  saddle- 
bags, small  hatchet,  my  hobbles,  and  in  fact 
everything  that  I  had  taken  with  me,  except 
what  they  had  impounded  in  Erewhon.  Yram's 
rug  I  dropped  into  the  river  when  I  knew  that 
I  should  no  longer  need  it — as  also  her  substi- 
tutes for  my  billy  and  pannikin ;  and  I  burned 
her  basket.  The  shepherd  would  have  asked  me 
questions.  You  will  find  an  order  to  deliver 
everything  up  to  bearer.     You  need  therefore  take 

nothing  from  England." 

301 


Erewhon    Revisited 

At  another  time  he  said,  "When  you  go,  for  it 
is  plain  I  cannot,  and  go  one  or  other  of  us  must, 
try  and  get  the  horse  I  had  :  he  will  be  nine  years 
old,  and  he  knows  all  about  the  rivers  ;  if  you 
leave  everything  to  him,  you  may  shut  your  eyes, 
but  do  not  interfere  with  him.  Give  the  shepherd 
what  I  said  and  he  will  attend  to  you,  but  go  a 
day  or  two  too  soon,  for  the  margin  of  one  day 
was  not  enough  to  allow  in  case  of  a  fresh  in 
the  river ;  if  the  water  is  discoloured  you  must 
not  cross  it — not  even  with  Doctor.  I  could  not 
ask  George  to  come  up  three  days  running  from 
Sunch'ston  to  the  statues  and  back." 

Here  he  became  exhausted.  Almost  the  last 
coherent  string  of  sentences  I  got  from  him  was 
as  follows  : — 

"About  George's  money  if  I  send  him  ;£|2ooo 
you  will  still  have  nearly  ;^  150,000  left,  and  Mr. 
Cathie  will  not  let  you  try  to  make  it  more.  I 
know  you  would  give  him  four  or  five  thousand, 
but  the  Mayor  and  I  talked  it  over,  and  settled  that 
_^20oo  in  gold  would  make  him  a  rich  man.  Con- 
sult our  good  friend  Alfred  "  (meaning,  of  course, 
Mr.  Cathie)  "about  the  best  way  of  taking  the 
money.  I  am  afraid  there  is  nothing  for  it  but 
gold,  and  this  will  be  a  great  weight  for  you  to 
carry — about,  I  believe  36  lbs.  Can  you  do  this  ? 
I  really  think  that  if  you  lead  your  horse  you  .  .  . 
no — there  will  be  the  getting  him  down  again " 

"  Don't  worry  about  it,  my  dear  father,"  said  I, 

"  I  can  do  it  easily  if  I  stow  the  load  rightly,  and 

302 


The  Homeward  Journey 

I  will  see  to  this.  I  shall  have  nothing  else  to 
carry,  for  I  shall  camp  down  below  both  morning 
and  evening.  But  would  you  not  like  to  send 
some  present  to  the  Mayor,  Yram,  their  other 
children,  and  Mrs.  Humdrum's  grand-daughter  ?  " 

"  Do  what  you  can,"  said  my  father.  And  these 
were  the  last  instructions  he  gave  me  about  those 
adventures  with  which  alone  this  work  is  con- 
cerned. 

The  day  before  he  died,  he  had  a  little  flicker  of 
intelligence,  but  all  of  a  sudden  his  face  became 
clouded  as  with  great  anxiety  ;  he  seemed  to  see 
some  horrible  chasm  in  front  of  him  which  he  had 
to  cross,  or  which  he  feared  that  I  must  cross,  for 
he  gasped  out  words,  which,  as  near  as  I  could 
catch  them,  were,  *'  Look  out !  John  !  Leap  !  Leap  ! 
Le  .  .  ."  but  he  could  not  say  all  that  he  was  try- 
ing to  say  and  closed  his  eyes,  having,  as  I  then 
deemed,  seen  that  he  was  on  the  brink  of  that 
gulf  which  lies  between  life  and  death ;  I  took  it 
that  in  reality  he  died  at  that  moment ;  for  there 
was  neither  struggle,  nor  hardly  movement  of  any 
kind  afterwards — nothing  but  a  pulse  which  for 
the  next  several  hours  grew  fainter  and  fainter  so 
gradually,  that  it  was  not  till  some  time  after  it  had 
ceased  to  beat  that  we  were  certain  of  its  having 
done  so. 


303 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

I   MEET  MY   BROTHER   GEORGE  AT  THE   STATUES, 
ON   THE  TOP  OF  THE   PASS   INTO   EREWHON 

This  book  has  already  become  longer  than  I  in- 
tended, but  I  will  ask  the  reader  to  have  patience 
while  I  tell  him  briefly  of  my  own  visit  to  the 
threshold  of  that  strange  country  of  which  I  fear 
that  he  may  be  already  beginning  to  tire. 

The  winding-up  of  my  father's  estate  was  a  very 
simple  matter,  and  by  the  beginning  of  September 
1891  I  should  have  been  free  to  start ;  but  about 
that  time  I  became  engaged,  and  naturally  enough 
I  did  not  want  to  be  longer  away  than  was  neces- 
sary. I  should  not  have  gone  at  all  if  I  could  have 
helped  it.  I  left,  however,  a  fortnight  later  than 
my  father  had  done. 

Before  starting  I  bought  a  handsome  gold  re- 
peater for  the  Mayor,  and  a  brooch  for  Yram,  of 
pearls  and  diamonds  set  in  gold,  for  which  I  paid 
£200.  For  Yram's  three  daughters  and  for  Mrs. 
Humdrum's  grand-daughter  I  took  four  brooches 
each  of  which  cost  about  £15,  15s.,  and  for  the 
boys  I  got  three  ten-guinea  silver  watches.  For 
George  I  only  took  a  strong  English  knife  of  the 
best  make,  and  the  two  thousand  pounds  worth 
of   uncoined  gold,  which  for  convenience'  sake   I 

304 


I  Meet  George 

had  had  made  into  small  bars.  I  also  had  a  knap- 
sack made  that  would  hold  these  and  nothing 
else — each  bar  being  strongly  sewn  into  its  place, 
so  that  none  of  them  could  shift.  Whenever  I  went 
on  board  ship,  or  went  on  shore,  I  put  this  on  my 
back,  so  that  no  one  handled  it  except  myself — and 
I  can  assure  the  reader  that  I  did  not  find  it  a  light 
weight  to  handle.  I  ought  to  have  taken  something 
for  old  Mrs.  Humdrum,  but  I  am  ashamed  to  say 
that  I  forgot  her. 

I  went  as  directly  as  I  could  to  the  port  of 
which  my  father  had  told  me,  and  reached  it  on 
November  27,  one  day  later  than  he  had  done  in 
the  preceding  year. 

On  the  following  day,  which  was  a  Saturday,  I 
went  to  the  livery  stables  from  which  my  father 
had  bought  his  horse,  and  found  to  my  great  de- 
light that  Doctor  could  be  at  my  disposal,  for,  as 
it  seemed  to  me,  the  very  reasonable  price  of  fifteen 
shillings  a  day.  I  shewed  the  owner  of  the  stables 
my  father's  order,  and  all  the  articles  he  had  left 
were  immediately  delivered  to  me.  I  was  still  wear- 
ing crape  round  one  arm,  and  the  horse-dealer, 
whose  name  was  Baker,  said  he  was  afraid  the  other 
gentleman  might  be  dead. 

"  Indeed,  he  is  so,"  said  I,  "and  a  great  grief  it  is 
to  me  ;  he  was  my  father." 

"  Dear,  dear,"  answered  Mr.  Baker,  "  that  is  a  very 
serious  thing  for  the  poor  gentleman.  He  seemed 
quite  unfit  to  travel  alone,  and  I  feared  he  was  not 
long  for  this  world,  but  he  was  bent  on  going." 

305  u 


Erewhon   Revisited 

I  had  nothing  now  to  do  but  to  buy  a  blanket, 
pannikin,  and  billy,  with  some  tea,  tobacco,  two 
bottles  of  brandy,  some  ship's  biscuits,  and  whatever 
other  few  items  were  down  on  the  list  of  requisites 
which  my  father  had  dictated  to  me.  Mr.  Baker,  see- 
ing that  I  was  what  he  called  a  new  chum,  shewed 
me  how  to  pack  my  horse,  but  I  kept  my  knapsack 
full  of  gold  on  my  back,  and  though  I  could  see 
that  it  puzzled  him,  he  asked  no  questions.  There 
was  no  reason  why  I  should  not  set  out  at  once 
for  the  principal  town  of  the  colony,  which  was 
some  ten  miles  inland ;  I,  therefore,  arranged  at 
my  hotel  that  the  greater  part  of  my  luggage  should 
await  my  return,  and  set  out  to  climb  the  high 
hills  that  back  the  port.  From  the  top  of  these  I 
had  a  magnificent  view  of  the  plains  that  I  should 
have  to  cross,  and  of  the  long  range  of  distant 
mountains  which  bounded  them  north  and  south 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  On  some  of  the 
mountains  I  could  still  see  streaks  of  snow,  but 
my  father  had  explained  to  me  that  the  ranges  I 
should  here  see,  were  not  those  dividing  the 
English  colony  from  Erewhon.  I  also  saw,  some 
nine  miles  or  so  out  upon  the  plains,  the  more 
prominent  buildings  of  a  large  town  which  seemed 
to  be  embosomed  in  trees,  and  this  I  reached  in 
about  an  hour  and  a  half ;  for  I  had  to  descend 
at  a  foot's  pace,  and  Doctor's  many  virtues  did  not 
comprise  a  willingness  to  go  beyond  an  amble. 

At  the  town  above  referred  to  I  spent  the  night, 

and  began  to  strike  across  the  plains  on  the  fol- 

306 


I  Meet  George 

lowing  morning.  I  might  have  crossed  these  in 
three  days  at  twenty-five  miles  a  day,  but  I  had 
too  much  time  on  my  hands,  and  my  load  of 
gold  was  so  uncomfortable  that  I  was  glad  to  stay 
at  one  accommodation  house  after  another,  aver- 
aging about  eighteen  miles  a  day.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  if  I  had  taken  advice,  I  could  have  stowed  my 
load  more  conveniently,  but  I  could  not  unpack  it, 
and  made  the  best  of  it  as  it  was. 

On  the  evening  of  Wednesday,  December  2,  I 
reached  the  river  which  I  should  have  to  follow  up  ; 
it  was  here  nearing  the  gorge  through  which  it  had  to 
pass  before  the  country  opened  out  again  at  the  back 
of  the  front  range.  I  came  upon  it  quite  suddenly 
on  reaching  the  brink  of  a  great  terrace,  the  bank 
of  which  sloped  almost  precipitously  down  towards 
it,  but  was  covered  with  grass.  The  terrace  was 
some  three  hundred  feet  above  the  river,  and  faced 
another  similar  one,  which  was  from  a  mile  and 
a  half  to  two  miles  distant.  At  the  bottom  of  this 
huge  yawning  chasm,  rolled  the  mighty  river,  and 
I  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  having  to  cross  and 
recross  it.  For  it  was  angry,  muddy,  evidently  in 
heavy  fresh,  and  filled  bank  and  bank  for  nearly  a 
mile  with  a  flood  of  seething  waters. 

I  followed  along  the  northern  edge  of  the  ter- 
race, till  I  reached  the  last  accommodation  house 
that  could  be  said  to  be  on  the  plains — which,  by 
the  way,  were  here  some  eight  or  nine  hundred 
feet  above  sea  level.  When  I  reached  this  house, 
I  was  glad  to  learn  that  the  river  was  not  likely 

307 


Erewhon  Revisited 

to  remain  high  for  more  than  a  day  or  two,  and 
that  if  what  was  called  a  Southerly  Burster  came 
up,  as  it  might  be  expected  to  do  at  any  moment, 
it  would  be  quite  low  again  before  three  days  were 
over. 

At  this  house  I  stayed  the  night,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  a  stray  dog — a  retriever, 
hardly  full  grown,  and  evidently  very  much  down 
on  his  luck — took  up  with  me  ;  when  I  inquired 
about  him,  and  asked  if  I  might  take  him  with  me, 
the  landlord  said  he  wished  I  would,  for  he  knew 
nothing  about  him  and  was  trying  to  drive  him 
from  the  house.  Knowing  what  a  boon  the  com- 
panionship of  this  poor  beast  would  be  to  me 
when  I  was  camping  out  alone,  I  encouraged 
him,  and  next  morning  he  followed  me  as  a  matter 
of  course. 

In  the  night  the  Southerly  Burster  which  my  host 
anticipated  had  come  up,  cold  and  blustering,  but 
invigorating  after  the  hot,  dry,  wind  that  had  been 
blowing  hard  during  the  daytime  as  I  had  crossed 
the  plains.  A  mile  or  two  higher  up  I  passed  a  large 
sheep-station,  but  did  not  stay  there.  One  or  two 
men  looked  at  me  with  surprise,  and  asked  me 
where  I  was  going,  whereon  I  said  I  was  in  search 
of  rare  plants  and  birds  for  the  Museum  of  the 
town  at  which  I  had  slept  the  night  after  my  arrival. 
This  satisfied  their  curiosity,  and  I  ambled  on 
accompanied  by  the  dog.  In  passing  I  may  say 
that  I  found  Doctor  not  to  excel  at  any  pace  except 
an  amble,  but  for  a  long  journey,  especially  for  one 

308 


I  Meet  George 

who  is  carrying  a  heavy,  awkward  load,  there  is  no 
pace  so  comfortable  ;  and  he  ambled  fairly  fast. 

I  followed  the  horse  track  which  had  been  cut 
through  the  gorge,  and  in  many  places  I  disliked  it 
extremely,  for  the  river,  still  in  fresh,  was  raging 
furiously ;  twice,  for  some  few  yards,  where  the 
gorge  was  wider  and  the  stream  less  rapid,  it 
covered  the  track,  and  I  had  no  confidence  that  it 
might  not  have  washed  it  away  ;  on  these  occasions 
Doctor  pricked  his  ears  towards  the  water,  and 
was  evidently  thinking  exactly  what  his  rider  was. 
He  decided,  however,  that  all  would  be  sound,  and 
took  to  the  water  without  any  urging  on  my  part. 
Seeing  his  opinion,  I  remembered  my  father's 
advice,  and  let  him  do  what  he  liked,  but  in  one 
place  for  three  or  four  yards  the  water  came  nearly 
up  to  his  belly,  and  I  was  in  great  fear  for  the 
watches  that  were  in  my  saddle-bags.  As  for  the 
dog,  I  feared  I  had  lost  him,  but  after  a  time  he  re- 
joined me,  though  how  he  contrived  to  do  so  I 
cannot  say. 

Nothing  could  be  grander  than  the  sight  of  this 
great  river  pent  into  a  narrow  compass,  and  occa- 
sionally becoming  more  like  an  immense  waterfall 
than  a  river,  but  I  was  in  continual  fear  of  coming 
to  more  places  where  the  water  would  be  over  the 
track,  and  perhaps  of  finding  myself  unable  to  get 
any  farther.  I  therefore  failed  to  enjoy  what 
was  really  far  the  most  impressive  sight  in  its  way 
that  I  had  ever  seen.     "  Give  me,"  I  said  to  myself, 

"  the  Thames  at  Richmond,"  and  right  thankful  was 

309 


Erewhon  Revisited 

I,  when  at  about  two  o'clock  I  found  that  I  was 
through  the  gorge  and  in  a  wide  valley,  the  greater 
part  of  which,  however,  was  still  covered  by  the 
river.  It  was  here  that  I  heard  for  the  first  time 
the  curious  sound  of  boulders  knocking  against 
each  other  underneath  the  great  body  of  water  that 
kept  rolling  them  round  and  round. 

I  now  halted,  and  lit  a  fire,  for  there  was  much 
dead  scrub  standing  that  had  remained  after  the 
ground  had  been  burned  for  the  first  time  some 
years  previously.  I  made  myself  some  tea,  and 
turned  Doctor  out  for  a  couple  of  hours  to  feed.  I 
did  not  hobble  him,  for  my  father  had  told  me 
that  he  would  always  come  for  bread.  When  I  had 
dined,  and  smoked,  and  slept  for  a  couple  of  hours 
or  so,  I  reloaded  Doctor  and  resumed  my  journey 
towards  the  shepherd's  hut,  which  I  caught  sight 
of  about  a  mile  before  I  reached  it.  When  nearly 
half  a  mile  off  it,  I  dismounted,  and  made  a  written 
note  of  the  exact  spot  at  which  I  did  so.  I  then 
turned  for  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  to  my  right, 
at  right  angles  to  the  track,  where  some  huge  rocks 
were  lying — fallen  ages  since  from  the  mountain 
that  flanked  this  side  of  the  valley.  Here  I  de- 
posited my  knapsack  in  a  hollow  underneath  some 
of  the  rocks,  and  put  a  good  sized  stone  in  front  of 
it,  for  I  meant  spending  a  couple  of  days  with  the 
shepherd  to  let  the  river  go  down.  Moreover,  as  it 
was  now  only  December  3,  I  had  too  much  time  on 
my  hands,  but  I  had  not  dared  to  cut  things  finer. 

I  reached  the  hut  at  about  six  o'clock,  and  intro- 
310 


I  Meet  George 

duced  myself  to  the  shepherd,  who  was  a  nice, 
kind  old  man,  commonly  called  Harris,  but  his  real 
name  he  told  me  was  Horace — Horace  Taylor.  I 
had  the  conversation  with  him  of  which  I  have 
already  told  the  reader,  adding  that  my  father  had 
been  unable  to  give  a  coherent  account  of  what 
he  had  seen,  and  that  I  had  been  sent  to  get  the 
information  he  had  failed  to  furnish. 

The  old  man  said  that  I  must  certainly  wait  a 
couple  of  days  before  I  went  higher  up  the  river. 
He  had  made  himself  a  nice  garden,  in  which  he 
took  the  greatest  pride,  and  which  supplied  him 
with  plenty  of  vegetables.  He  was  very  glad  to 
have  company,  and  to  receive  the  newspapers 
which  I  had  taken  care  to  bring  him.  He  had  a 
real  genius  for  simple  cookery,  and  fed  me  excel- 
lently. My  father's  ■;^5,  and  the  ration  of  brandy 
which  I  nightly  gave  him,  made  me  a  welcome 
guest,  and  though  I  was  longing  to  be  at  any  rate 
as  far  as  the  foot  of  the  pass  into  Erewhon,  I 
amused  myself  very  well  in  an  abundance  of  ways 
with  which  I  need  not  trouble  the  reader. 

One  of  the  first  things  that  Harris  said  to  me 
was,  "  I  wish  I  knew  what  your  father  did  with  the 
nice  red  blanket  he  had  with  him  when  he  went 
up  the  river.  He  had  none  when  he  came  down 
again  ;  I  have  no  horse  here,  but  I  borrowed  one 
from  a  man  who  came  up  one  day  from  down 
below,  and  rode  to  a  place  where  I  found  what  I 
am  sure  were  the  ashes  of  the  last  fire  he  made,  but 
I  could  find  neither  the  blanket  nor  the  billy  and 

3" 


Erewhon   Revisited 

pannikin  he  took  away  with  him.  He  said  he  sup- 
posed he  must  have  left  the  things  there,  but  he 
could  remember  nothing  about  it." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  I,  "  that  I  cannot  help  you." 

"  At  any  rate,"  continued  the  shepherd,  "  I  did 
not  have  my  ride  for  nothing,  for  as  I  was  coming 
back  I  found  this  rug  half  covered  with  sand  on  the 
river-bed." 

As  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  an  excellent  warm 
rug,  on  the  spare  bunk  in  his  hut.  "  It  is  none  of 
our  make,"  said  he ;  "I  suppose  some  foreign 
digger  has  come  over  from  the  next  river  down 
south  and  got  drowned,  for  it  had  not  been  very 
long  where  I  found  it,  at  least  I  think  not,  for  it 
was  not  much  fly-blown,  and  no  one  had  passed 
here  to  go  up  the  river  since  your  father." 

I  knew  what  it  was,  but  I  held  my  tongue  beyond 
saying  that  the  rug  was  a  very  good  one. 

The  next  day,  December  4,  was  lovely,  after  a 
night  that  had  been  clear  and  cold,  with  frost  to- 
wards early  morning.  When  the  shepherd  had 
gone  for  some  three  hours  in  the  forenoon  to  see 
his  sheep  (that  were  now  lambing),  I  walked  down 
to  the  place  where  I  had  left  my  knapsack,  and 
carried  it  a  good  mile  above  the  hut,  where  I  again 
hid  it.  I  could  see  the  great  range  from  one  place, 
and  the  thick  new  fallen  snow  assured  me  that  the 
river  would  be  quite  normal  shortly.  Indeed,  by 
evening  it  was  hardly  at  all  discoloured,  but  I  waited 
another  day,  and  set  out  on  the  morning  of  Sunday, 

December  6.    The  river  was  now  almost  as  low  as 

312 


I  Meet  George 

in  winter,  and  Harris  assured  me  that  if  I  used  my 
eyes  I  could  not  miss  finding  a  ford  over  one  stream 
or  another  every  half  mile  or  so.  I  had  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  preventing  him  from  accompanying 
me  on  foot  for  some  little  distance,  but  I  got  rid  of 
him  in  the  end ;  he  came  with  me  beyond  the  place 
where  I  had  hidden  my  knapsack,  but  when  he  had 
left  me  long  enough,  I  rode  back  and  got  it. 

I  see  I  am  dwelling  too  long  upon  my  own  small 
adventures.  Suffice  it  that,  accompanied  by  my 
dog,  I  followed  the  north  bank  of  the  river  till  I 
found  I  must  cross  one  stream  before  I  could  get 
any  farther.  This  place  would  not  do,  and  I  had 
to  ride  half  a  mile  back  before  I  found  one  that 
seemed  as  if  it  might  be  safe.  I  fancy  my  father 
must  have  done  just  the  same  thing,  for  Doctor 
seemed  to  know  the  ground,  and  took  to  the  water 
the  moment  I  brought  him  to  it.  It  never  reached 
his  belly,  but  I  confess  I  did  not  like  it.  By  and 
by  I  had  to  recross,  and  so  on,  off  and  on,  till  at 
noon  I  camped  for  dinner.  Here  the  dog  found 
me  a  nest  of  young  ducks,  nearly  fledged,  from 
which  the  parent  birds  tried  with  great  success  to 
decoy  me.  I  fully  thought  I  was  going  to  catch 
them,  but  the  dog  knew  better  and  made  straight 
for  the  nest,  from  which  he  returned  immediately 
with  a  fine  young  duck  in  his  mouth,  which  he  laid 
at  my  feet,  wagging  his  tail  and  barking.  I  took 
another  from  the  nest  and  left  two  for  the  old 
birds. 

The  afternoon  was  much  as  the  morning  and 
313 


Erewhon   Revisited 

towards  seven  I  reached  a  place  which  suggested 
itself  as  a  good  camping  ground.  I  had  hardly 
fixed  on  it  and  halted,  before  I  saw  a  few  pieces  of 
charred  wood,  and  felt  sure  that  my  father  must 
have  camped  at  this  very  place  before  me.  I 
hobbled  Doctor,  unloaded,  plucked  and  singed  a 
duck,  and  gave  the  dog  some  of  the  meat  with 
which  Harris  had  furnished  me ;  I  made  tea,  laid 
my  duck  on  the  embers  till  it  was  cooked,  smoked, 
gave  myself  a  nightcap  of  brandy  and  water,  and 
by  and  by  rolled  myself  round  in  my  blanket,  with 
the  dog  curled  up  beside  me.  I  will  not  dwell 
upon  the  strangeness  of  my  feelings — nor  the  ex- 
treme beauty  of  the  night.  But  for  the  dog,  and 
Doctor,  I  should  have  been  frightened,  but  I  knew 
that  there  were  no  savage  creatures  or  venomous 
snakes  in  the  country,  and  both  the  dog  and  Doctor 
were  such  good  companionable  creatures,  that  I 
did  not  feel  so  much  oppressed  by  the  solitude  as  I 
had  feared  I  should  be.  But  the  night  was  cold, 
and  my  blanket  was  not  enough  to  keep  me  com- 
fortably warm. 

The  following  day  was  delightfully  warm  as  soon 
as  the  sun  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  and  the 
fresh  fallen  snow  disappeared  so  fast  from  the 
snowy  range  that  I  was  afraid  it  would  raise  the 
river — which,  indeed,  rose  in  the  afternoon  and 
became  slightly  discoloured,  but  it  cannot  have 
been  more  than  three  or  four  inches  deeper,  for  it 
never  reached  the  bottom  of  my  saddle-bags.  I 
believe  Doctor  knew  exactly  where   I  was  going, 

314 


I  Meet  George 

for  he  wanted  no  guidance.  I  halted  again  at  mid- 
day, got  two  more  ducks,  crossed  and  recrossed 
the  river,  or  some  of  its  streams,  several  times,  and 
at  about  six,  caught  sight,  after  a  bend  in  the  valley, 
of  the  glacier  descending  on  to  the  river-bed.  This 
I  knew  to  be  close  to  the  point  at  which  I  was  to 
camp  for  the  night,  and  from  which  I  was  to  ascend 
the  mountain.  After  another  hour's  slow  progress 
over  the  increasing  roughness  of  the  river-bed,  I  saw 
the  triangular  delta  of  which  my  father  had  told 
me,  and  the  stream  that  had  formed  it,  bounding 
down  the  mountain  side.  Doctor  went  right  up  to 
the  place  where  my  father's  fire  had  been,  and  I 
again  found  many  pieces  of  charred  wood  and 
ashes. 

As  soon  as  I  had  unloaded  Doctor  and  hobbled 
him,  I  went  to  a  tree  hard  by,  on  which  I  could  see 
the  mark  of  a  blaze,  and  towards  which  I  thought 
I  could  see  a  line  of  wood  ashes  running.  There  I 
found  a  hole  in  which  some  bird  had  evidently 
been  wont  to  build,  and  surmised  correctly  that  it 
must  be  the  one  in  which  my  father  had  hidden  his 
box  of  sovereigns.  There  was  no  box  in  the  hole 
now,  and  I  began  to  feel  that  I  was  at  last  within 
measureable  distance  of  Erewhon  and  the  Ere- 
whonians. 

I  camped  for  the  night  here,  and  again  found  my 
single  blanket  insufficient.  The  next  day,  i.e.  Tues- 
day, December  8, 1  had  to  pass  as  I  best  could,  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  as  I  should  find  the  gold  a  great 
weight,  I  had  better  take  it  some  three  hours  up  the 


Erewhon   Revisited 

mountain  side  and  leave  it  there,  so  as  to  make 
the  following  day  less  fatiguing,  and  this  I  did, 
returning  to  my  camp  for  dinner  ;  but  I  was  panic- 
stricken  all  the  rest  of  the  day  lest  I  should  not  have 
hidden  it  safely,  or  lest  I  should  be  unable  to  find 
it  next  day — conjuring  up  a  hundred  absurd  fancies 
as  to  what  might  befall  it.  And  after  all,  heavy 
though  it  was,  I  could  have  carried  it  all  the  way. 
In  the  afternoon  I  saddled  Doctor  and  rode  him  up 
to  the  glaciers,  which  were  indeed  magnificent,  and 
then  I  made  the  few  notes  of  my  journey  from  which 
this  chapter  has  been  taken.  I  made  excuses  for 
turning  in  early,  and  at  daybreak  rekindled  my  fire 
and  got  my  breakfast.  All  the  time  the  companion- 
ship of  the  dog  was  an  unspeakable  comfort  to  me. 
It  was  now  the  day  my  father  had  fixed  for  my 
meeting  with  George,  and  my  excitement  (with 
which  I  have  not  yet  troubled  the  reader,  though 
it  had  been  consuming  me  ever  since  I  had  left 
Harris's  hut)  was  beyond  all  bounds,  so  much  so 
that  I  almost  feared  I  was  in  a  fever  which  would 
prevent  my  completing  the  little  that  remained  of 
my  task ;  in  fact,  I  was  in  as  great  a  panic  as  I  had 
been  about  the  gold  that  I  had  left.  My  hands 
trembled  as  I  took  the  watches,  and  the  brooches 
for  Yram  and  her  daughters  from  my  saddle-bags, 
which  I  then  hung,  probably  on  the  very  bough  on 
which  my  father  had  hung  them.  Needless  to  say, 
I  also  hung  my  saddle  and  bridle  along  with  the 
saddle-bags. 

It  was  nearly  seven  before  I  started,  and  about  ten 

:,i6 


I  Meet  George 

before  I  reached  the  hiding-place  of  my  knapsack. 
I  found  it,  of  course,  quite  easily,  shouldered  it, 
and  toiled  on  towards  the  statues.  At  a  quarter 
before  twelve  I  reached  them,  and  almost  beside 
myself  as  I  was,  could  not  refrain  from  some  dis- 
appointment at  finding  them  a  good  deal  smaller 
than  I  expected.  My  father,  correcting  the  measure- 
ment he  had  given  in  his  book,  said  he  thought 
that  they  were  about  four  or  five  times  the  size  of 
life ;  but  really  I  do  not  think  they  were  more  than 
twenty  feet  high,  any  one  of  them.  In  other  re- 
spects my  father's  description  of  them  is  quite 
accurate.  There  was  no  wind,  and  as  a  matter 
of  course,  therefore,  they  were  not  chanting.  I 
wiled  away  the 'quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  time 
when  George  became  due,  with  wondering  at  them, 
and  in  a  way  admiring  them,  hideous  though  they 
were  ;  but  all  the  time  I  kept  looking  towards  the 
part  from  which  George  should  come.] 

At  last  my  watch  pointed  to  noon,  but  there 
was  no  George.  A  quarter  past  twelve,  but  no 
George.  Half-past,  still  no  George.  One  o'clock, 
and  all  the  quarters  till  three  o'clock,  but  still 
no  George.  I  tried  to  eat  some  of  the  ship's 
biscuits  I  had  brought  with  me,  but  I  could  not. 
My  disappointment  was  now  as  great  as  my  excite- 
ment had  been  all  the  forenoon  ;  at  three  o'clock 
I  fairly  cried,  and  for  half  an  hour  could  only  fling 
myself  on  the  ground  and  give  way  to  all  the  un- 
reasonable spleen  that  extreme  vexation  could  sug- 
gest.    True,  I  kept  telling  myself  that  for  aught 

317 


Erewhon  Revisited 


I  knew  George  might  be  dead,  or  down  with  a 
fever ;  but  this  would  not  do ;  for  in  this  last 
case  he  should  have  sent  one  of  his  brothers  to 
meet  me,  and  it  was  not  likely  that  he  was  dead. 
I  am  afraid  I  thought  it  most  probable  that  he 
had  been  casual — of  which  unworthy  suspicion  I 
have  long  since  been  heartily  ashamed. 

I  put  the  brooches  inside  my  knapsack,  and  hid 
it  in  a  place  where  I  was  sure  no  one  would  find 
it ;  then,  with  a  heavy  heart,  I  trudged  down  again 
to  my  camp — broken  in  spirit,  and  hopeless  for  the 
morrow. 

I  camped  again,  but  it  was  some  hours  before 
I  got  a  wink  of  sleep  ;  and  when  sleep  came  it 
was  accompanied  by  a  strange  dream.  I  dreamed 
that  I  was  by  my  father's  bedside,  watching  his 
last  flicker  of  intelligence,  and  vainly  trying  to  catch 
the  words  that  he  was  not  less  vainly  trying  to 
utter.  All  of  a  sudden  the  bed  seemed  to  be  at 
my  camping  ground,  and  the  largest  of  the  statues 
appeared,  quite  small,  high  up  the  mountain  side, 
but  striding  down  like  a  giant  in  seven  league  boots 
till  it  stood  over  me  and  my  father,  and  shouted  out 
"  Leap,  John,  leap."  In  the  horror  of  this  vision 
I  woke  with  a  loud  cry  that  woke  my  dog  also, 
and  made  him  shew  such  evident  signs  of  fear, 
that  it  seemed  to  me  as  though  he  too  must  have 
shared  my  dream. 

Shivering  with  cold  I  started  up  in  a  frenzy,  but 
there  was  nothing,  save  a  night  of  such  singular 
beauty  that  I  did  not  even  try  to  go  to  sleep  again. 

318 


I  Meet  George 

Naturally  enough,  on  trying  to  keep  awake  I  dropped 
asleep  before  many  minutes  were  over. 

In  the  morning  I  again  climbed  up  to  the  statues, 
without,  to  my  surprise,  being  depressed  with  the 
idea  that  George  would  again  fail  to  meet  me.  On 
the  contrary,  without  rhyme  or  reason,  I  had  a 
strong  presentiment  that  he  would  come.  And 
sure  enough,  as  soon  as  I  caught  sight  of  the 
statues,  which  I  did  about  a  quarter  to  twelve,  I 
saw  a  youth  coming  towards  me,  with  a  quick 
step,  and  a  beaming  face  that  had  only  to  be  seen 
to  be  fallen  in  love  with. 

"  You  are  my  brother,"  said  he  to  me.  "  Is  my 
father  with  you  ?  " 

I  pointed  to  the  crape  on  my  arm,  and  to  the 
ground,  but  said  nothing. 

He  understood  me,  and  bared  his  head.  Then 
he  flung  his  arms  about  me  and  kissed  my  fore- 
head according  to  Erewhonian  custom.  I  was  a 
little  surprised  at  his  saying  nothing  to  me  about 
the  way  in  which  he  had  disappointed  me  on  the 
preceding  day ;  I  resolved,  however,  to  wait  for 
the  explanation  that  I  felt  sure  he  would  give  me 
presently. 


319 


CHAPTER    XXVIII 

GEORGE  AND  I  SPEND  A  FEW  HOURS  TOGETHER 
AT  THE  STATUES,  AND  THEN  PART — I  REACH 
HOME — POSTSCRIPT 

I  HAVE  said  on  an  earlier  page  that  George  gained 
an  immediate  ascendancy  over  me,  but  ascendancy 
is  not  the  word — he  took  me  by  storm  ;  how,  or 
why,  I  neither  know  nor  want  to  know,  but  before 
I  had  been  with  him  more  than  a  few  minutes  I 
felt  as  though  I  had  known  and  loved  him  all  my 
life.  And  the  dog  fawned  upon  him  as  though  he 
felt  just  as  I  did. 

"  Come  to  the  statues,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he 
had  somewhat  recovered  from  the  shock  of  the 
news  I  had  given  him.  "We  can  sit  down  there  on 
the  very  stone  on  which  our  father  and  I  sat  a  year 
ago.  I  have  brought  a  basket,  which  my  mother 
packed  for — for — him  and  me.  Did  he  talk  to  you 
about  me  ?  " 

"  He  talked  of  nothing  so  much,  and  he  thought 
of  nothing  so  much.  He  had  your  boots  put 
where  he  could  see  them  from  his  bed  until  he 
died." 

Then  followed  the  explanation  about  these  boots, 

of  which  the  reader  hg^s  already  been  told.     This 

320 


Conclusion 


made  us  both   laugh,  and  from  that  moment  we 
were  cheerful. 

I  say  nothing  about  our  enjoyment  of  the 
luncheon  with  which  Yram  had  provided  us,  and 
if  I  were  to  detail  all  that  I  told  George  about 
my  father,  and  all  the  additional  information  that 
I  got  from  him — (many  a  point  did  he  clear  up  for 
me  that  I  had  not  fully  understood) — I  should  fill 
several  chapters,  whereas  I  have  left  myself  only 
one.     Luncheon  being  over  I  said — 

"And  are  you  married  ?" 

"Yes"  (with  a  blush),  "and  are  you  ?" 

I  could  not  blush.  Why  should  I  ?  And  yet 
young  people  —  especially  the  most  ingenuous 
among  them — are  apt  to  flush  up  on  being  asked 
if  they  are,  or  are  going,  to  be  married.  If  I  could 
have  blushed,  I  would.  As  it  was  I  could  only  say 
that  I  was  engaged  and  should  marry  as  soon  as  I 
got  back. 

"  Then  you  have  come  all  this  way  for  me,  when 
you  were  wanting  to  get  married  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have.  My  father  on  his  death-bed 
told  me  to  do  so,  and  to  bring  you  something  that 
I  have  brought  you." 

"What  trouble  I  have  given  !  How  can  I  thank 
you  ?  " 

"  Shake  hands  with  me." 

Whereon  he  gave  my  hand  a  stronger  grip  than 
I  had  quite  bargained  for. 

"And  now,"  said   I,  "before   I  tell  you  what  I 

have  brought,  you  must  promise  me  to  accept  it. 

321  X 


Erewhon   Revisited 

Your  father  said  I  was  not  to  leave  you  till  you  had 
done  so,  and  I  was  to  say  that  he  sent  it  with  his 
dying  blessing." 

After  due  demur  George  gave  his  promise,  and 
I  took  him  to  the  place  where  I  had  hidden  my 
knapsack. 

"I  brought  it  up  yesterday,"  said  I. 

"  Yesterday  ?  but  why  ?  " 

"  Because  yesterday — was  it  not  ? — was  the  first 
of  the  two  days  agreed  upon  between  you  and  our 
father  ?  " 

"No  —  surely  to-day  is  the  first  day — I  was  to 
come  XXI.  i.  3,  which  would  be  your  December  9." 

"  But  yesterday  was  December  9  with  us — to-day 
is  December  10." 

"  Strange  !  What  day  of  the  week  do  you  make 
it?" 

"To-day  is  Thursday,  December  10." 

"  This  is  still  stranger — we  make  it  Wednesday  ; 
yesterday  was  Tuesday." 

Then  I  saw  it.  The  year  XX.  had  been  a  leap 
year  with  the  Erewhonians,  and  1891  in  England 
had  not.  This,  then,  was  what  had  crossed  my 
father's  brain  in  his  dying  hours,  and  what  he  had 
vainly  tried  to  tell  me.  It  was  also  what  my  un- 
conscious self  had  been  struggling  to  tell  my  con- 
scious one,  during  the  past  night,  but  which  my 
conscious  self  had  been  too  stupid  to  understand. 
And  yet  my  conscious  self  had  caught  it  in  an 
imperfect   sort   of   a   way  after   all,  for   from   the 

moment  that  my  dream  had  left  me  I  had  been 

322 


Conclusion 


composed,  and  easy  in  my  mind  that  all  would  be 
well.  I  wish  some  one  would  write  a  book  about 
dreams  and  parthenogenesis — for  that  the  two  are 
part  and  parcel  of  the  same  story — a  brood  of  folly 
without  father  bred — I  cannot  doubt. 

I  did  not  trouble  George  with  any  of  this  rubbish, 
but  only  shewed  him  how  the  mistake  had  arisen. 
When  we  had  laughed  sufficiently  over  my  mistake 
— for  it  was  I  who  had  come  up  on  the  wrong  day, 
not  he — I  fished  my  knapsack  out  of  its  hiding- 
place. 

"Do  not  unpack  it,"  said  I,  "beyond  taking  out 
the  brooches,  or  you  will  not  be  able  to  pack  it  so 
well ;  but  you  can  see  the  ends  of  the  bars  of  gold, 
and  you  can  feel  the  weight ;  my  father  sent  them 
for  you.  The  pearl  brooch  is  for  your  mother,  the 
smaller  brooches  are  for  your  sisters,  and  your 
wife." 

I  then  told  him  how  much  gold  there  was,  and 
from  my  pockets  brought  out  the  watches  and  the 
English  knife. 

"This  last/'  I  said,  "is  the  only  thing  that  I  am 
giving  you  ;  the  rest  is  all  from  our  father.  I  have 
many  many  times  as  much  gold  myself,  and  this  is 
legally  your  property  as  much  as  mine  is  mine." 

George  was  aghast,  but  he  was  powerless  alike  to 
express  his  feelings,  or  to  refuse  the  gold. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  my  father  left  me  this 
by  his  will  ?  " 

"Certainly  he  did,"  said  I,  inventing  a  pious 
fraud. 

323 


Erewhon   Revisited 

"  It  is  all  against  my  oath,"  said  he,  looking  grave. 

"Your  oath  be  hanged,"  said  I.  "You  must  give 
the  gold  to  the  Mayor,  who  knows  that  it  was 
coming,  and  it  will  appear  to  the  world,  as  though 
he  were  giving  it  you  now  instead  of  leaving  you 
anything." 

"  But  it  is  ever  so  much  too  much  ! " 

"It  is  not  half  enough.  You  and  the  Mayor 
must  settle  all  that  between  you.  He  and  our 
father  talked  it  all  over,  and  this  was  what  they 
settled." 

"  And  our  father  planned  all  this,  without  saying 
a  word  to  me  about  it  while  we  were  on  our  way 
up  here  ?  " 

"  Yes.  There  might  have  been  some  hitch  in  the 
gold's  coming.  Besides  the  Mayor  told  him  not 
to  tell  you." 

"And  he  never  said  anything  about  the  other 
money  he  left  for  me — which  enabled  me  to  marry 
at  once  ?     Why  was  this  ?  " 

"Your  mother  said  he  was  not  to  do  so." 

"Bless  my  heart,  how  they  have  duped  me  all 
round.  But  why  would  not  my  mother  let  your 
father  tell  me  ?  Oh  yes — she  was  afraid  I  should 
tell  the  King  about  it,  as  I  certainly  should,  when  I 
told  him  all  the  rest." 

"Tell  the  King?"  said  I,  "what  have  you  been 
telling  the  King?" 

"  Everything  ;  except  about  the  nuggets  and  the 
sovereigns,  of  which  I  knew  nothing ;  and  I  have 
felt  myself  a  blackguard  ever  since  for  not  telling 

324 


Conclusion 


him  about  these  when  he  came  up  here  last 
autumn — but  I  let  the  Mayor  and  my  mother  talk 
me  over,  as  I  am  afraid  they  will  do  again." 

"  When  did  you  tell  the  King  ?  " 

Then  followed  all  the  details  that  I  have  told  in 
the  latter  part  of  Chapter  XXI.  When  I  asked  how 
the  King  took  the  confession,  George  said — 

"  He  was  so  much  flattered  at  being  treated  like 
a  reasonable  being,  and  Dr.  Downie,  who  was  chief 
spokesman,  played  his  part  so  discreetly,  without 
attempting  to  obscure  even  the  most  compromising 
issues,  that  though  his  Majesty  made  some  show  of 
displeasure  at  first,  it  was  plain  that  he  was  heartily 
enjoying  the  whole  story. 

"  Dr.  Downie  shewed  very  well.  He  took  on 
himself  the  onus  of  having  advised  our  action,  and 
he  gave  me  all  the  credit  of  having  proposed  that 
we  should  make  a  clean  breast  of  everything. 

"The  King,  too,  behaved  with  truly  royal  polite- 
ness ;  he  was  on  the  point  of  asking  why  I  had  not 
taken  our  father  to  the  Blue  Pool  at  once,  and  flung 
him  into  it  on  the  Sunday  afternoon,  when  some- 
thing seemed  to  strike  him  :  he  gave  me  a  search- 
ing look,  on  which  he  said  in  an  undertone,  'Oh 
yes,'  and  did  not  go  on  with  his  question.  He 
never  blamed  me  for  anything,  and  when  I  begged 
him  to  accept  my  resignation  of  the  Rangership, 
he  said — 

"  '  No.  Stay  where  you  are  till  I  lose  confidence 
in  you,  which  will  not,  I  think,  be  very  soon.  I 
will  come  and  have  a  few  days'  shooting  about  the 

325 


Erewhon   Revisited 

middle  of  March,  and  if  I  have  good  sport  I  shall 
order  your  salary  to  be  increased.  If  any  more 
foreign  devils  come  over,  do  not  Blue-Pool  them ; 
send  them  down  to  me,  and  I  will  see  what  I  think 
of  them  ;  I  am  much  disposed  to  encourage  a  few 
of  them  to  settle  here.' 

"  I  am  sure,"  continued  George,  "  that  he  said 
this  because  he  knew  I  was  half  a  foreign  "devil 
myself.  Indeed  he  won  my  heart  not  only  by  the 
delicacy  of  his  consideration,  but  by  the  obvious 
good  will  he  bore  me.  I  do  not  know  what  he  did 
with  the  nuggets,  but  he  gave  orders  that  the 
blanket  and  the  rest  of  my  father's  kit  should  be 
put  in  the  great  Erewhonian  Museum.  As  regards 
my  father's  receipt,  and  the  Professors'  two  depo- 
sitions, he  said  he  would  have  them  carefully  pre- 
served in  his  secret  archives.  '  A  document,'  he 
said  somewhat  enigmatically,  '  is  a  document — but, 
Professor  Hanky,  you  can  have  this' — and  as  he 
spoke  he  handed  him  back  his  pocket-handker- 
chief. 

"  Hanky  during  the  whole  interview  was  furious, 

at  having  to  play  so  undignified  a  part,  but  even 

more  so,  because  the  King  while  he  paid  marked 

attention    to    Dr.   Downie,   and    even    to    myself, 

treated  him   with   amused   disdain.      Nevertheless, 

angry  though  he  was,  he  was  impenitent,  unabashed, 

and  brazened  it  out  at  Bridgeford,  that  the  King 

had  received  him  with  open  arms,  and  had  snubbed 

Dr.   Downie  and  myself.      But   for  his  (Hanky's) 

intercession,    I   should   have   been  dismissed  then 

326 


Conclusion 


and  there  from  the  Rangership.  And  so  forth. 
Panky  never  opened  his  mouth. 

"  Returning  to  the  King,  his  Majesty  said  to  Dr. 
Downie,  *  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  be  able  to  canonize 
any  of  you  gentlemen  just  yet.  We  must  let  this 
affair  blow  over.  Indeed  I  am  in  half  a  mind  to 
have  this  Sunchild  bubble  pricked ;  I  never  liked  it, 
and  am  getting  tired  of  it ;  you  Musical  Bank  gen- 
tlemen are  overdoing  it.  I  will  talk  it  over  with  her 
Majesty.  As  for  Professor  Hanky,  I  do  not  see 
how  I  can  keep  one  who  has  been  so  successfully 
hoodwinked,  as  my  Professor  of  Worldly  Wisdom ; 
but  I  will  consult  her  Majesty  about  this  point  also. 
Perhaps  I  can  find  another  post  for  him.  If  I 
decide  on  having  Sunchildism  pricked,  he  shall 
apply  the  pin.     You  may  go.' 

"  And  glad  enough,"  said  George,  "we  all  of  us 
were  to  do  so." 

"  But  did  he,"  I  asked,  "  try  to  prick  the  bubble 
of  Sunchildism  ?  " 

"Oh  no.  As  soon  as  he  said  he  would  talk  it 
over  with  her  Majesty,  I  knew  the  whole  thing 
would  end  in  smoke,  as  indeed  to  all  outward 
appearance  it  shortly  did  ;  for  Dr.  Downie  advised 
him  not  to  be  in  too  great  a  hurry,  and  whatever  he 
did  to  do  it  gradually.  He  therefore  took  no  further 
action  than  to  show  marked  favour  to  practical 
engineers  and  mechanicians.  Moreover  he  started 
an  aeronautical  society,  which  made  Bridgeford 
furious  ;  but  so  far,  I  am  afraid  it  has  done  us  no 
good,  for  the  first  ascent  was  disastrous,  involving 

327 


Erewhon   Revisited 

the  death  of  the  poor  fellow  who  made  it,  and  since 
then  no  one  has  ventured  to  ascend.  I  am  afraid 
we  do  not  get  on  very  fast." 

"  Did  the  King,"  I  asked,  "  increase  your  salary  ?  " 

"Yes.     He  doubled  it." 

"And  what  do  they  say  in  Sunch'ston  about  our 
father's  second  visit  ?  " 

George  laughed,  and  shewed  me  the  newspaper 
extract  which  I  have  already  given.  I  asked  who 
wrote  it. 

"  I  did,"  said  he,  with  a  demure  smile  ;  "  I  wrote 
it  at  night  after  I  returned  home,  and  before  start- 
ing for  the  capital  next  morning.  I  called  myself 
'the  deservedly  popular  Ranger,'  to  avert  suspicion. 
No  one  found  me  out ;  you  can  keep  the  extract ; 
I  brought  it  here  on  purpose." 

"  It  does  you  great  credit.  Was  there  ever  any 
lunatic,  and  was  he  found  ?  " 

"Oh  yes.  That  part  was  true,  except  that  he 
had  never  been  up  our  way." 

"  Then  the  poacher  is  still  at  large  ?  " 

"  It  is  to  be  feared  so." 

"And  were  Dr.  Downie  and  the  Professors 
canonized  after  all." 

"  Not  yet ;  but  the  Professors  will  be  next  month 
— for  Hanky  is  still  Professor.  Dr.  Downie  backed 
out  of  it.  He  said  it  was  enough  to  be  a  Sun- 
childist  without  being  a  Sunchild  Saint.  He  wor- 
ships the  jumping  cat  as  much  as  the  others,  but 
he  keeps  his  eye  better  on  the  cat,  and  sees  sooner 

both  when  it  will  jump,  and  where  it  will  jump  to. 

^,28 


Conclusion 

Then,  without  disturbing  any  one,  he  insinuates 
himself  into  the  place  which  will  be  best  when  the 
jump  is  over.  Some  say  that  the  cat  knows  him  and 
follows  him  ;  at  all  events  when  he  makes  a  move  the 
cat  generally  jumps  towards  him  soon  afterwards." 

"  You  give  him  a  very  high  character." 

"Yes,  but  I  have  my  doubts  about  his  doing 
much  in  this  matter  ;  he  is  getting  old,  and  Hanky 
burrows  like  a  mole  night  and  day.  There  is  no 
knowing  how  it  will  all  end." 

"And  the  people  at  Sunch'ston  ?  Has  it  got  well 
about  among  them,  in  spite  of  your  admirable 
article,  that  it  was  the  Sunchild  himself  who  inter- 
rupted Hanky  ?  " 

"  It  has,  and  it  has  not.  Many  of  us  know  the 
truth,  but  a  story  came  down  from  Bridgeford  that 
it  was  an  evil  spirit  who  had  assumed  the  Sun- 
child's  form,  intending  to  make  people  sceptical 
about  Sunchildism  ;  Hanky  and  Panky  cowed  this 
spirit,  otherwise  it  would  never  have  recanted. 
Many  people  swallow  this." 

"  But  Hanky  and  Panky  swore  that  they  knew 
the  man." 

"That  does  not  matter." 

"And  now  please,  how  long  have  you  been 
married  ?" 

"  About  ten  months." 

"Any  family?" 

"One  boy  about  a  fortnight  old.  Do  come 
down  to  Sunch'ston  and  see  him — he  is  your  own 
nephew.     You  speak  Erewhonian  so  perfectly  that 

529 


Erewhon   Revisited 

no  human  being  would  suspect  you  were  a  foreigner, 
and  you  look  one  of  us  from  head  to  foot.  I  can 
smuggle  you  through  quite  easily,  and  my  mother 
would  so  like  to  see  you." 

I  should  dearly  have  liked  to  have  gone,  but  it 
was  out  of  the  question.  I  had  nothing  with  me 
but  the  clothes  I  stood  in  ;  moreover  I  was  longing 
to  be  back  in  England,  and  when  once  I  was  in 
Erewhon  there  was  no  knowing  when  I  should  be 
able  to  get  away  again  ;  but  George  fought  hard 
before  he  gave  in. 

It  was  now  nearing  the  time  when  this  strange 
meeting  between  two  brothers — as  strange  a  one 
as  the  statues  can  ever  have  looked  down  upon — 
must  come  to  an  end.  I  shewed  George  what  the 
repeater  would  do,  and  what  it  would  expect  of  its 
possessor.  I  gave  him  six  good  photographs,  of 
my  father  and  myself — three  of  each.  He  had 
never  seen  a  photograph,  and  could  hardly  believe 
his  eyes  as  he  looked  at  those  I  shewed  him.  I 
also  gave  him  three  envelopes  addressed  to  myself, 
care  of  Alfred  Emery  Cathie,  Esq.,  15  Clifford's 
Inn,  London,  and  implored  him  to  write  to  me  if 
he  could  ever  find  means  of  getting  a  letter  over 
the  range  as  far  as  the  shepherd's  hut.  At  this  he 
shook  his  head,  but  he  promised  to  write  if  he 
could.  I  also  told  him  that  I  had  written  a  full 
account  of  my  father's  second  visit  to  Erewhon, 
but  that  it  should  never  be  published  till  I  heard 
from  him — at  which  he  again  shook  his  head,  but 
added,    "  And    yet  who  can  tell  ?      For  the   King 

330 


Conclusion 


may   have   the   country   opened  up  to   foreigners 
some  day  after  all." 

Then  he  thanked  me  a  thousand  times  over, 
shouldered  the  knapsack,  embraced  me  as  he  had 
my  father,  and  caressed  the  dog,  embraced  me 
again,  and  made  no  attempt  to  hide  the  tears  that 
ran  down  his  cheeks. 

"There,"  he  said  ;  "  I  shall  wait  here  till  you  are 
out  of  sight." 

I  turned  away,  and  did  not  look  back  till  I  reached 
the  place  at  which  I  knew  that  I  should  lose  the 
statues.  I  then  turned  round,  waved  my  hand — as 
also  did  George,  and  went  down  the  mountain  side, 
full  of  sad  thoughts,  but  thankful  that  my  task  had 
been  so  happily  accomplished,  and  aware  that  my 
life  henceforward  had  been  enriched  by  something 
that  I  could  never  lose. 

For  I  had  never  seen,  and  felt  as  though  I  never 
could  see,  George's  equal.  His  absolute  uncon- 
sciousness of  self,  the  unhesitating  way  in  which  he 
took  me  to  his  heart,  his  fearless  frankness,  the 
happy  genial  expression  that  played  on  his  face, 
and  the  extreme  sweetness  of  his  smile — these'were 
the  things  that  made  me  say  to  myself  that  the 
"blazon  of  beauty's  best"  could  tell  me  nothing 
better  than  what  I  had  found  and  lost  within^  the 
last  three  hours.  How  small,  too,  I  felt  by  com- 
parison !  If  for  no  other  cause,  yet  for  this,  that  I, 
who  had  wept  so  bitterly  over  my  own  disappoint- 
ment the  day  before,  could  meet  this  dear  fellow's 
tears  with  no  tear  of  my  own. 

331 


Erewhon   Revisited 

But  let  this  pass.  I  got  back  to  Harris's  hut  with- 
out adventure.  When  there,  in  the  course  of  the 
evening,  I  told  Harris  that  I  had  a  fancy  for  the  rug 
he  had  found  on  the  river-bed,  and  that  if  he  would 
let  me  have  it,  1  would  give  him  my  red  one  and  ten 
shillings  to  boot.  The  exchange  was  so  obviously 
to  his  advantage  that  he  made  no  demur,  and  next 
morning  I  strapped  Yram's  rug  on  to  my  horse, 
and  took  it  gladly  home  to  England,  where  I  keep 
it  on  my  own  bed  next  to  the  counterpane,  so  that 
with  care  it  may  last  me  out  my  life.  I  wanted  him 
to  take  the  dog  and  make  a  home  for  him,  but  he 
had  two  collies  already,  and  said  that  a  retriever 
would  be  of  no  use  to  him.  So  I  took  the  poor 
beast  on  with  me  to  the  port,  where  I  was  glad  to 
find  that  Mr.  Baker  liked  him  and  accepted  him 
from  me,  though  he  was  not  mine  to  give.  He  had 
been  such  an  unspeakable  comfort  to  me  when  I 
was  alone,  that  he  would  have  haunted  me  unless 
I  had  been  able  to  provide  for  him  where  I  knew 
he  would  be  well  cared  for.  As  for  Doctor,  I  was 
sorry  to  leave  him,  but  I  knew  he  was  in  good 
hands. 

"  I  see  you  have  not  brought  your  knapsack  back, 
sir,"  said  Mr.  Baker. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  and  very  thankful  was  I  when  I  had 
handed  it  over  to  those  for  whom  it  was  intended." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  were,  sir,  for  I  could  see  it 
was  a  desperate  heavy  load  for  you." 

"  Indeed  it  was."  But  at  this  point  I  bi ought  the 
discussion  to  a  close. 


Postscript 


Two  days  later  I  sailed,  and  reached  home  early 
in  February  1892.  I  was  married  three  weeks  later, 
and  when  the  honeymoon  was  over,  set  about 
making  the  necessary,  and  some,  I  fear,  unnecessary 
additions  to  this  book— by  far  the  greater  part  of 
which  had  been  written,  as  I  have  already  said, 
many  months  earlier.  I  now  leave  it,  at  any  rate 
for  the  present,  April  22,  1892. 


Postscript — On  the  last  day  of  November  1900,  I 
received  a  letter  addressed  in  Mr.  Alfred  Cathie's 
familiar  handwriting,  and  on  opening  it  found  that 
it  contained  another,  addressed  to  me  in  my  own, 
and  unstamped.  For  the  moment  I  was  puzzled, 
but  immediately  knew  that  it  must  be  from  George. 
I  tore  it  open,  and  found  eight  closely  written  pages, 
which  I  devoured  as  I  have  seldom  indeed  devoured 
so  long  a  letter.  It  was  dated  XXIX.  vii.  i,  and,  as 
nearly  as  I  can  translate  it  was  as  follows  ; — 

"Twice,  my  dearest  brother,  have  I  written  to 
you,  and  twice  in  successive  days  in  successive 
years,  have  I  been  up  to  the  statues  on  the  chance 
that  you  could  meet  me,  as  I  proposed  in  my  letters. 
Do  not  think  I  went  all  the  way  back  to  Sunch'ston 

there  is  a  ranger's  shelter  now  only  an  hour  and 

a  half  below  the  statues,  and  here  I  passed  the 
night.  I  knew  you  had  got  neither  of  my  letters, 
for  if  you  had  got  them  and  could  not  come  your- 
self, you  would  have  sent  some  one  whom  you  could 

333 


Erewhon   Revisited 

trust  with  a  letter.  I  know  you  would,  though  I 
do  not  know  how  you  would  have  contrived  to 
do  it. 

"  I  sent  both  letters  through  Bishop  Kahabuka 
(or,  as  his  inferior  clergy  call  him,  'Chowbok'), 
head  of  the  Christian  Mission  to  Erewhemos, 
which,  as  your  father  has  doubtless  told  you,  is 
the  country  adjoining  Erewhon,  but  inhabited  by 
a  coloured  race  having  no  afBnity  with  our  own. 
Bishop  Kahabuka  has  penetrated  at  times  into 
Erewhon,  and  the  King,  wishing  to  be  on  good 
terms  with  his  neighbours,  has  permitted  him  to 
establish  two  or  three  mission  stations  in  the 
western  parts  of  Erewhon.  Among  the  mission- 
aries are  some  few  of  your  own  countrymen. 
None  of  us  like  them,  but  one  of  them  is  teaching 
me  English,  which  I  find  quite  easy. 

"As  I  wrote  in  the  letters  that  have  never 
reached  you,  I  am  no  longer  Ranger.  The  King, 
after  some  few  years  (in  the  course  of  which  I 
told  him  of  your  visit,  and  what  you  had  brought 
me),  declared  that  I  was  the  only  one  of  his  ser- 
vants whom  he  could  trust,  and  found  high  office 
for  me,  which  kept  me  in  close  confidential  com- 
munication with  himself. 

"About  three  years  ago,  on  the  death  of  his 
Prime  Minister,  he  appointed  me  to  fill  his  place ; 
and  it  was  on  this,  that  so  many  possibilities  oc- 
curred to  me  concerning  which  I  dearly  longed 
for  your  opinion,  that  I  wrote  and  asked  you,  if 
you  could,  to  meet  me  personally  or  by  proxy  at 

334 


Postscript 


the  statues,  which  I  could  reach  on  the  occasion 
of  my  annual  visit  to  my  mother — yes — and  father 
— at  Sunch'ston. 

"  I  sent  both  letters  by  way  of  Erewhemos,  con- 
fiding them  to  Bishop  Kahabuka,  who  is  just  such 
another  as  St.  Hanky.  He  tells  me  that  our 
father  was  a  very  old  and  dear  friend  of  his — but 
of  course  I  did  not  say  anything  about  his  being 
my  own  father.  I  only  inquired  about  a  Mr. 
Higgs,  who  was  now  worshipped  in  Erewhon  as 
a  supernatural  being.  The  Bishop  said  it  was, 
"Oh,  so  very  dreadful,"  and  he  felt  it  all  the  more 
keenly,  for  the  reason  that  he  had  himself  been  the 
means  of  my  father's  going  to  Erewhon,  by  giving 
him  the  information  that  enabled  him  to  find  the 
pass  over  the  range  that  bounded  the  country. 

"  I  did  not  like  the  man,  but  I  thought  I  could 
trust  him  with  a  letter,  which  it  now  seems  I 
could  not  do.  This  third  letter  I  have  given  him 
with  a  promise  of  a  hundred  pounds  in  silver  for 
his  new  Cathedral,  to  be  paid  as  soon  as  I  get  an 
answer  from  you. 

"  We  are  all  well  at  Sunch'ston  ;  so  are  my  wife 
and  eight  children — five  sons  and  three  daughters 
— but  the  country  is  at  sixes  and  sevens.  St. 
Panky  is  dead,  but  his  son  Pocus  is  worse.  Dr. 
Downie  has  become  very  lethargic.  I  can  do  less 
against  St.  Hankyism  than  when  I  was  a  private 
man.  A  little  indiscretion  on  my  part  would 
plunge  the  country  in  civil  war.  Our  engineers 
and  so-called  men  of  science  are  sturdily  begging 

335 


Erewhon   Revisited 

for  endowments,  and  steadily  claiming  to  have  a 
hand  in  every  pie  that  is  baked  from  one  end  of 
the  country  to  the  other.  The  missionaries  are 
buying  up  all  our  silver,  and  a  change  in  the 
relative  values  of  gold  and  silver  is  in  progress  of 
which  none  of  us  foresee  the  end. 

"The  King  and  I  both  think  that  annexation  by 
England,  or  a  British  Protectorate,  would  be  the 
saving  of  us,  for  we  have  no  army  worth  the  name, 
and  if  you  do  not  take  us  over  some  one  else  soon 
will.  The  King  has  urged  me  to  send  for  you.  If 
you  come  (do  !  do  1  do  !)  you  had  better  come  by 
way  of  Erewhemos,  which  is  now  in  monthly  com- 
munication with  Southampton.  If  you  will  write 
me  that  you  are  coming  I  will  meet  you  at  the  port, 
and  bring  you  with  me  to  our  own  capital,  where 
the  King  will  be  overjoyed  to  see  you." 

The  rest  of  the  letter  was  filled  with  all  sorts  of 
news  which  interested  me,  but  would  require 
chapters  of  explanation  before  they  could  become 
interesting  to  the  reader. 

The  letter  wound  up  : — 

"You  may  publish  now  whatever  you  like, "[when- 
ever you  like. 

''  Write  to  me  by  way  of  Erewhemos,  care  of  the 
Right  Reverend  the  Lord  Bishop,  and  say  which 
way  you  will  come.  If  you  prefer  the  old  road,  we 
are  bound  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
statues  by  the  beginning  of  March.  My  next 
brother  is  now  Ranger,  and  could  meet  you  at  the 

336 


Postscript 


statues  with  permit  and  luncheon,  and  more  of  that 
white  wine  than  ever  you  will  be  able  to  drink. 
Only  let  me  know  what  you  will  do. 

"  I  should  tell  you  that  the  old  railway  which 
used  to  run  from  Clearwater  to  the  capital,  and 
which,  as  you  know,  was  allowed  to  go  to  ruin,  has 
been  reconstructed  at  an  outlay  far  less  than  might 
have  been  expected — for  the  bridges  had  been  main- 
tained for  ordinary  carriage  traffic.  The  journey, 
therefore,  from  Sunch'ston  to  the  capital  can  now 
be  done  in  less  than  forty  hours.  On  the  whole, 
however,  I  recommend  you  to  come  by  way  of 
Erewhemos.  If  you  start,  as  I  think  possible,  with- 
out writing  from  England,  Bishop  Kahabuka's 
palace  is  only  eight  miles  from  the  port,  and  he 
will  give  you  every  information  about  your  further 
journey — a  distance  of  less  than  a  couple  of  hundred 
miles.     But  I  should  prefer  to  meet  you  myself. 

"  My  dearest  brother,  I  charge  you  by  the  me- 
mory of  our  common  father,  and  even  more  by 
that  of  those  three  hours  that  linked  you  to  me  for 
ever,  and  which  I  would  fain  hope  linked  me  also 
to  yourself — come  over,  if  by  any  means  you  can 
do  so — come  over  and  help  us. 

"George  Strong." 

"  My  dear,"  said  I  to  my  wife  who  was  at  the 
other  end  of  the  breakfast  table,  "  I  shall  have  to 
translate  this  letter  to  you,  and  then  you  will  have 
to  help  me  to  begin  packing ;  for  I  have  none  too 
much  time.      I   must  see  Alfred,  and  give  him  a 

337  Y 


Postscript 


power  of  attorney.  He  will  arrange  with  some 
publisher  about  my  book,  and  you  can  correct  the 
press.  Break  the  news  gently  to  the  children  ;  and 
get  along  without  me,  my  dear,  for  six  months  as 
well  as  you  can." 

I  write  this  at  Southampton,  from  which  port 
I  sail  to-morrow — i.e.  November  15,  1900 — for 
Erewhemos. 


THE  END 


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